Starquest
by Eideann
Summary: Crossover  Stargate SG1. Jonny, Hadji & Benton have been taken prisoner again, with one difference. This time it's a real alien. Can Jonny, with the help of SG1, save them before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Jonny ran across the uneven countryside, breath coming in sharp gasps, desperate beyond all measure to find someplace to hide. A stitch had developed in his side, but he ignored it. His pursuers were too close behind him for him to be able to risk stopping for breath. Besides, a momentary pause wouldn't help him much.

He didn't really understand what was going on, all he knew was that his brother had made this escape possible, at some risk to both himself and their father, he suspected. Jonny didn't like leaving them behind, but he had to go for help.

Assuming he could escape his pursuers. His brother had told him what direction to run in, and had given him a hastily scrawled group of symbols that were supposed to help, but Jonny had no idea what they meant. There was a sudden rushing sound behind him and he threw himself sideways to avoid the energy blast.

This sent him scrambling down a hillside, slipping and sliding, very nearly out of control. He was making a lot more noise than he would have liked, but they already knew where he was. When he hit bottom, he lay still for a moment, listening. Then he made to roll up onto his feet, but something slammed into him, knocking him to the ground and rolling him under an outcropping of rocks. He started to struggle, but the man who held him down shook his head, his green eyes locked to Jonny's.

Jonny lay still, waiting. Heavy footfalls sounded above them. Jonny could hear the voices above him, speaking the language that his father had seemed to understand when their guards had spoken to them just before those same guards had taken his father away.

Clenching his teeth, Jonny remained utterly still while the guards roamed overhead, then he heard shouts and yells, and the sounds of the energy weapons going off together with automatic weapons fire. The searchers moved off, away from where Jonny lay pinned underneath the green-eyed man. When the sounds had drawn off a bit, the man rolled out from under the rocks and peered up, and Jonny finally got a good look at him.

He didn't recognize the unit patch, but the symbol of the U.S. Marines was clear on the shoulder, and Jonny grinned. Hadji would be – He gulped and looked down, shaking his head. When he had better control over himself, he looked up again, opening his mouth to speak, but the man put a finger to his lips, grabbed Jonny by the arm and pulled him away from the sounds of fighting. One of the creatures must have been more canny than the others, however, because there was another rush of sound. Jonny threw himself sideways, shoving the man out of the way. He felt a jolt as the energy bolt grazed his arm, and the man fell down onto his back, facing the way they had come, and started firing. There was a series of thumps as the oddly dressed man with the strange weapon fell from the top of the escarpment and rolled bonelessly down the hill.

"Come on, kid," the marine growled, grabbing him by the upper arm again and starting to pull him to his feet. Jonny felt dazed and shocked from the aftereffects of the weapon's blast, but when he tried to put his weight on his left foot, he discovered another, more serious problem. His leg wouldn't support him.

"Shit!" exclaimed the soldier. "We don't have time for this. We've got to keep moving, catch up to my unit. There will be more of them along any minute." Jonny nodded grimly and, with the man's help, managed to move along, but at a much slower pace than either of them liked.

"Sullivan!" came a crackly voice over the man's radio. "What's keeping you?"

"That kid we saw, Major, he's hurt his leg," the soldier replied. "We're moving as fast as we can. But it's not like I can carry him and fight off the Jaffa at the same time."

"Got you, Lieutenant. Keep moving."

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Sullivan said into the radio, then dropped his hand from the device. "I know this can't be easy kid, but we've got to keep –"

"Don't worry," Jonny said between grunts of pain. "I know. Thanks, by the way. And this may sound like a stupid question, but where are we?"

"Not sure what you folks call this place, I'm a stranger around here."

"Me, too," Jonny replied, but Sullivan didn't seem to hear him. They were suddenly surrounded by sound. More marines had turned up out of nowhere, and more of the creatures, the warriors that Sullivan had called the Jaffa. Energy blasts and bullets began flying around them.

"To hell with it!" Sullivan growled. "Sorry, this is probably going to hurt." With those words, he scooped Jonny up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and started running like sixty.

He was right, it wasn't the most comfortable way to travel, especially with his injured leg dangling and during a firefight, but Jonny hung on for dear life. Then they hit a clearing, but, though Sullivan slowed to a stop, he didn't put Jonny down.

"Dial home," said a voice that Jonny recognized from the radio, the major.

"Are we taking him with us?" another voice asked, sounding worried.

"I suppose we could leave him to the Jaffa," said Sullivan angrily, but the major interrupted.

"We're taking the kid, Thomas," he said. "Dr. Fraiser will take a look at him. It will be okay."

Jonny struggled a little and said, "Will you please put me down?"

"Sure, kid, sorry," Sullivan said, suiting actions to words as he lowered Jonny to his right foot, helping to support him.

"Thanks," he said. "And my name's Jonny." He looked around at the soldiers surrounding them. "You've got to take me back with you. I need your help."

"Why were they chasing you?" asked the major, Feretti, according to the patch on his jacket.

"I escaped," Jonny said. "But they still have my father and my brother, and you have to help them. I only left to get help, or I'd –" He made an injudicious movement and hissed as the pain shot up his leg.

Suddenly there was a whoosh of sound and the big ring of stone that Jonny had only noticed peripherally came to life with what seemed to be a huge fountain of water. The only trouble was, the water fountained sideways and then dropped back to pool vertically. "What in the hell?" he demanded, staring at it.

"Sir?" said a voice from nearby. "Major Feretti, he's speaking English."

"It's the translators," Feretti said. "You're –"

"No, sir, it's not. It's not coming through the translators."

Jonny was hearing them, registering their words, but he was still gazing in astonishment at the circle of stone.

"That's everyone!" called a voice from behind him.

"Let's move, then," ordered Feretti. Another soldier came up beside Jonny and they started moving forward.

Jonny tried to break loose. "No! My father, my brother! They're still back there with those . . . those creeps. I can't leave them –"

The first people walking towards the ring were enveloped by the water-like substance and Jonny had the strongest feeling that they weren't emerging on the other side – at least not here. His eyes found the edges of the ring and he recognized one of the symbols as being one of the ones Hadji had scrawled for him and which he still had stuffed in his pocket.

"Please, Sullivan, my dad, I can't leave –"

"Look, kid, if we stay here any longer, we're all gonna get caught. That won't help your dad or your brother any."

Accepting that logic, Jonny still didn't think he wanted to go through the strange portal. "What is that thing?"

"We call it the Stargate," Sullivan said. "It's fine, Jonny, you'll be just fine."

"That's just the littlest bit freaky," Jonny said, watching more people get swallowed up.

"Don't worry, kid," said the second soldier, an Asian man. "When we go through there, you're going to see some really odd things, but then we'll come out in a pretty normal place. Nothing to be scared of."

Then they were at the portal and through.

It was the strangest experience in Jonny's life, and that was saying something, but after a couple of minutes they emerged onto a metal ramp in an enormous room that rose high above him. "Close the iris!" called Major Feretti as he emerged behind them. "Got some hostiles on our tail."

Behind them there was a scraping sound and Jonny turned to see what could only be described as an iris come seemingly out of nowhere to block the circular entry.

"Stand down," called a voice from the floor and a man strode forward. He was solid and bald, with a grandfatherly face. "Major, who is our young friend here?"

"He was running from the Jaffa, sir."

"Jaffa? But there was no sign of the Goa'uld on that planet on our preliminary survey."

"I have to go back!" Jonny said. "My father and brother are still there, wherever . . ." _What the hell . . ._ "That planet?" he asked, feeling the blood drain from his face. "I need to call Phil Corvin right now."

"Phil who?" asked the older man, his eyes going wide.

"Phil Corvin," Jonny said. "The Director of I-1. My father works for him."

"I-1?" the man repeated, eyes widening.

"Look, I'm not speaking Dutch," Jonny said in frustration. "I don't know what's going on here, exactly, but someone has taken my father. You –" He looked at the older man who was still gaping at him. "You're an Air Force general, sir," he said, decoding the markings on the man's uniform. "You _have _to have heard of I-1."

"I have, but . . . who is your father?"

Jonny opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from the back of the room beat him to it. "Dr. Benton Quest."

The general turned, and Jonny followed his eyes to see a vaguely familiar man emerge from the crowd. "Dr. Jackson?" he said hesitantly.

"My God, yes, yes, Jonny, it's me. What – how did you wind up on the other side of wormhole?"

"On the other side of a what?" Jonny asked in utter bewilderment.

Dr. Jackson opened his mouth but nothing came out, and Jonny grimaced with frustration as the man stood looking stymied.

"Explanations will have to wait, son, I'm sorry," the general said. He glanced to the side where a woman in a lab coat was emerging, eyes on Jonny, and nodded toward her. Turning back to Jonny, he said, "Let me introduce myself. I'm General Hammond, and this is Dr. Fraiser. Doctor, please take our young guest to the infirmary and give him a thorough physical."

"Yes, general." The doctor had brown hair and warm eyes, and she smiled at Jonny. "Come with me, please, Jonny. Sullivan, Ng, if you could give him a hand . . ."

"Sure, Doc," said Sullivan. "Come on, Jonny. She's no worse than any ordinary doctor." The woman gave the soldier a very dry look, but Jonny could see amusement in the brown eyes.

He wanted to protest, but now didn't seem the best of times, and his foot was really beginning to scream. Nodding at General Hammond, he allowed the two soldiers to help him out of the room, glancing back over his shoulder at the . . . the Stargate. _Wormhole? Dr. Jackson's supposed to be nuts, but . . ._ Jonny shook his head. His father didn't believe that. Jonny wondered what explanations were waiting for, and hoped they would come soon.

* * *

Daniel watched Jonny as he was carried out by the marines, torn between going with him and staying to demand explanations. Before he could make up his mind, General Hammond took the choice out of his hands.

"Dr. Jackson, would you come with me?"

Daniel nodded and followed the general back to his office, questions doing an irritating polka in his head. How had a fifteen-year-old boy wound up on P(string)? Where were Benton and Hadji, and what had happened to them? Wasn't there a bodyguard? What of him? The wide variety of possibilities jostled in his mind for dominance, together with the potential ramifications thereof.

His thoughts were in such clamorous disarray that he didn't hear the general's question till he had repeated at least once. Or so Daniel guessed, from the impatience in Hammond's tone and stance.

"You know the boy, Jackson?"

"No, sir, not really," Daniel said, startled to realize that they were already in Hammond's office with the door closed. "I met him once when I went to talk to Dr. Quest about the possibility of helping us out with the program. General, how did – when – how – you surely didn't send two teenagers through the Stargate, even with their father?"

"No, we most certainly did not!" Hammond replied firmly.

"So how – when – what –" Daniel floundered.

"The operative question, Dr. Jackson, may in fact be 'who?'" Daniel blinked in momentary non-comprehension, but as General Hammond went on his meaning became clear. "That's why I wanted to know how well you know him. A lot may depend on determining if that boy is who he says he is. And even then, assuming he is Jonny Quest, and that he doesn't have any unwanted guests in his head, there's always the chance of brain washing or covert programming."

Daniel glanced toward the infirmary. "He's a fifteen-year-old boy, general."

Hammond sank his bulk into his chair, looking elderly. "Let's certainly hope so."

There was a knock and then Sam entered, closely followed by an extremely saturnine-looking Jack O'Neill. They had seen Jonny, he could tell by their expressions. Shutting the door behind them, Jack took up a tense stance in front of it, his hands in his pockets.

Sam surged forward immediately. "What's going on? Who is that kid in the infirmary?"

"That kid," Jack said in a distant, almost disinterested voice, a sure sign of extreme agitation, "is Jonny Quest." Sam turned back towards him, surprise writ large on her face. "And from what I heard he's just returned from P(string). Care to explain how a fifteen-year-old kid from Maine wound up on another planet, General?"

"I don't have any more idea than you do, Colonel O'Neill, and believe me, I do want to know." Hammond's face was grim. "It's not just the boy, either. He says we left his father and brother behind on P(string)."

"Sir, if they didn't use the Stargate to get off planet, then how?" Sam asked, and Daniel nodded. "I mean, there's no way in hell that someone could sneak three people onto the base and through the Stargate without someone noticing."

"I have to report to my superiors," General Hammond said. "But I can tell you this, there's a quiet APB out for the three of them. Apparently the last time any of them was seen was Thursday of last week."

"But if Dr. Benton Quest went missing, surely it would be in all the newspapers," Daniel said, shaking his head. "It's Wednesday, that's nearly a week."

General Hammond grimaced. "I'm going to call a briefing in a couple of hours when I have more information. When Dr. Fraiser has cleared him, I'm going to have to talk to the boy and see what his story is."

Daniel nodded and Sam, pursing her lips, followed suit. They started towards the door, but Jack hadn't moved. Daniel raised an eyebrow, but Jack wasn't looking at them. He was looking at General Hammond. "Do you mind if I talk to him, general?" Jack asked. "I went on the first attempt to recruit Dr. Quest, and I spent some time with all three of the kids while I was there. He might be a little more comfortable talking to me."

Mildly surprised, because he hadn't known that Jack had ever met the Quests, Daniel looked over at the General who was nodding thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten. Do you know the boy at all?"

Jack shrugged. "No more than an hour or so of playing ball can tell you about someone, but at least he has seen me in an unofficial situation."

"I think that's an excellent idea, Jack. You check with Dr. Fraiser and let me know when you go in to talk to him."

Jack nodded sharply, and then opened the door and the three of them filed out. Usually, they sort of congregated when they left Hammond's office, to discuss what they'd learned, but Jack didn't even pause. He headed straight for the infirmary. Daniel started to follow, but Sam said, "Jonny Quest? Isn't that Benton Quest's son? The Benton Quest?"

"Yeah," Daniel said. "The Benton Quest . . . the man who invented our translators and either part or all of some of our other equipment . . . that Benton Quest."

"Where is he, then?"

"Jonny just said 'they' have him. I don't know who 'they' might be, but he was being chased by Jaffa."

Sam's eyes grew round. "If the Goa'uld have Benton Quest . . ." Her voice trailed off.

Daniel nodded. "We're in big trouble."

* * *

Jonny bit his lip. He had a broken bone in his foot and another in his ankle, which meant he wasn't going anywhere without crutches for awhile. Dr. Fraiser said he couldn't put any weight at all on his foot. What he didn't understand is why she'd followed up the obvious x-rays and poking and prodding with blood tests, urine and stool samples and . . . why an MRI?

A sly little voice at the back of his head suggested that she was afraid that whatever had happened to Hadji had happened to him, too. The image of those glowing eyes, that malevolent expression that had briefly disfigured his brother's face flashed through his mind, but Jonny banished it, shaking his head. It could be fixed. Whatever it was could be fixed. He had to believe that.

"Well, young man, you appear to be in tip top health aside from today's injuries," she said. "A few bruises, some evidence of stress –"

"I need to call Phil Corvin," Jonny said instantly. "And Race. He's got to be worried sick about us. I have to tell him where I am." He looked around the infirmary. "By the way, where am I?"

The woman's mouth opened, and her eyes softened sympathetically, but he didn't need her hedging response to know she wasn't going to tell him anything. Jonny grimaced as she said, "I bet you're hungry. I never knew a teenaged boy who wasn't."

Jonny opened his mouth angrily to tell her not to be so condescending, but a voice behind him arrested his words. "Hey, Doc, if he's clean, why don't I get him some lunch?" Jonny turned in surprise to see Jack O'Neill standing behind him.

"Colonel O'Neill?" he asked.

"Yup," the older man replied. "I hope you don't mind, but I've got some questions I need to ask you."

Jonny glared up at the man. "I've got a few questions to ask, but no one seems to want to answer them," he growled.

"I'm sure you do," O'Neill said gently. "But there's a lot going on that we can't explain until we have a little more information from you."

"I need to call Phil, and I need talk to Race," Jonny said stubbornly. "And we've got to go after my father and Hadji."

"You aren't going much of anywhere for awhile," said the doctor, coming up with a pair of crutches. Jonny glared at her, but she didn't change expression.

"We've already got a team working on retrieving your family, Jonny," O'Neill said. "But, again, we need more information."

Jonny looked down at his hands. The doctor put the crutches in front of him and he took them. "Have you ever used these before?" she asked. Sighing, Jonny nodded. "Colonel O'Neill, make sure he keeps his foot elevated and ice it." She handed O'Neill an ice pack wrapped in cloth. "We can't cast it until some of the swelling has gone down."

"I'll take care of it, Doc," O'Neill said casually. "He's in good hands."

"I know," she said. "Now I've got to finish my report for the general. Bring Jonny back in a couple of hours, or sooner if you can."

O'Neill helped Jonny down from the exam table and between them they got the crutches situated correctly. Jonny swung forward, irritated beyond words as he followed O'Neill. Before they left the infirmary, there was a call from across the room. "Hey, see you later Jonny!" called Lieutenant Sullivan.

Jonny turned and gave him a feeble grin. "Thanks," he said. The marine just shrugged, smiling.

The halls were filled with military personnel from all branches of the service, and they all looked curiously at him. He suspected they didn't see too many kids in here from the way he'd heard people talking. He made note automatically of exit doors and phone locations. This might be the U.S. military, and he might be walking with a man his father knew, but that didn't mean everything was hunky dory. He had to get in touch with Race. His bodyguard had to be going out of his mind by now, and there wasn't anything he could do to find Jonny's dad or Hadji. Much against his will, Jonny had been forced to accept that things weren't nearly as simple as they usually were.

O'Neill took him to an office. When he opened the door, they both saw Dr. Jackson in mid-pace. He turned as the door opened and said, "Jack, I –" He broke off when he saw Jonny.

"You two have met, right?" asked Colonel O'Neill, looking down at Jonny, who nodded. All he knew about these two men was that O'Neill threw a mean baseball, and Dr. Jackson was sort of a renegade scholar, and that they'd both tried to get his father to do some work for the government at different points in time. He'd had no idea that the two men worked together, and it made Jonny unaccountably nervous.

"Daniel?" O'Neill said, and the anthropologist gave him his attention. "Why don't you call down and have someone bring us up some lunch?" Dr. Jackson nodded, sitting down behind the desk and picking up the phone. Colonel O'Neill looked over at Jonny. "Let's get you sitting comfortably so Doc Fraiser doesn't kill me, okay?" he said. A few winces later, Jonny was sitting on a fairly comfortable chair with his foot resting on a cushion on a folding chair, the ice pack draped over it. Dr. Jackson, having made his phone call, leaned back in the desk chair, his arms crossed while Colonel O'Neill flipped another folding chair around backwards and sat down across it. Both of them were looking at Jonny.

"What is this place?" Jonny asked.

"My office," O'Neill said. Jonny opened his mouth to respond angrily, but fortunately the older man didn't let it go at that. "In a more general sense, this is the Stargate Command."

Jonny nodded slowly. That was a partial answer, but it wasn't enough. "But where is that?" he asked.

"Under Cheyenne Mountain," O'Neill replied. Dr. Jackson was looking a little startled by this comment, as if he hadn't expected O'Neill to reveal this fact, but he didn't say anything. "So there's a couple of your questions answered," the soldier said, giving him a small smile. "You want to answer some of mine?"

Jonny shook his head. "I need to see Race, I need to tell him I'm okay."

"I'm sure someone's going to let him know."

"And bring him here?" Jonny asked urgently. O'Neill didn't answer, but from his expression Jonny guessed that the answer wasn't one he'd like. He dropped his head and looked down at his hands.

"Jonny, we really do need to know what happened."

"And you really aren't supposed to question a minor outside the presence of his guardian," Jonny said, glaring up at him.

"Your father –" O'Neill started helplessly.

"My father is missing," Jonny said. "And in that circumstance, Race Bannon is my guardian."

"I thought he was your bodyguard," O'Neill said.

"He's both," Jonny said shortly.

Both men were silent for a moment, then Dr. Jackson cleared his throat. "If it were up to me, Jonny, I'd call him right now, but it's really not. This is a highly classified project, and he doesn't have clearance."

"And I do?" Jonny asked dryly.

"Put frankly, no, you don't," O'Neill said, shrugging. "But that's not something we can help right now. And the less you tell us about what happened, the less we can do to help your father." Jonny looked down at his hands, clenching his fists in frustration.

There was a knock on the door at that moment, preventing Jonny from growling. Colonel O'Neill got up to answer it leaving Jonny to contemplate the truth of what they'd said. It was an airman with lunch. Sandwiches, salad and a carton of milk, each. Jonny took his and made a face, setting it on the corner of the desk that was nearest him. He wasn't particularly hungry, though he knew he probably should be.

When the airman was gone and the door was shut, O'Neill said, "So, what happened, Jonny?"

The boy grimaced. "At first it all seemed pretty normal," he said. "We woke up in a strange room, a little exotic but nothing too out of the ordinary." He shrugged at their stupefied expressions, giving them a wry grin. "I figured you'd guess that getting grabbed by bad guys isn't completely new to me from the total lack of hysteria."

"I had wondered," Dr. Jackson said.

Jonny crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "I'm not really supposed to be talking about stuff like this without an okay from Race or Dad or Phil."

O'Neill looked thoughtful for a moment, then got up, gave Dr. Jackson a quick look that Jonny didn't know how to interpret, and then he left the room. Left with nothing to say, both of them ate silently until Colonel O'Neill got back. Jonny could tell that Dr. Jackson was upset by the situation, but Jonny had grown up in a classified environment. There were rules that he just wasn't going to break, even . . . He grit his teeth so tightly they hurt.

When Colonel O'Neill came back, he picked up the phone on his desk and placed it in easy reach, keeping his hand atop it. Jonny looked up at him, hardly daring to hope. "Pick it up and press line 4, it will be Phil Corvin." O'Neill didn't lift his hand off the receiver. "Please don't mention the Stargate or the wormhole."

Jonny blinked and nodded, gulping. O'Neill released his hold on the receiver. Jonny picked up the phone and said, "Phil?"

"Jonny!" The relief in Director Corvin's voice was audible and slightly alarming. "Are you all right, kid?"

"I have a broken ankle and foot," Jonny said. "I don't understand what's going on, but my father –"

"Don't say too much, Jonny," Phil said quickly. "They've told me what I need to know. I just – are you okay?"

"I don't know, Jonny said helplessly. "I've only been here for a couple of hours. I don't –"

"Jonny, you'll be okay," Phil said gently. "And you really can't tell me anything." Jonny nodded, biting his lip. "Now, I've been asked to give you permission to talk freely to some specific people. Let me give you the list, okay?" Jonny nodded again, then murmured an affirmative because Phil couldn't see him. "General George Hammond, Colonel Jonathon O'Neill and Dr. Daniel Jackson. You should also talk freely to anyone the general tells you is okay."

"Anyone?"

"General Hammond isn't going to tell you to talk to just anyone, Jonny. Don't worry. You're with good people."

Grimacing, Jonny said, "Right. Okay, Phil. Um . . . does Race know where I am?"

"I'm calling him as soon as I'm off the phone with you," Phil said. "I'll tell him you're all right. Take care of yourself, and I'll call you again if I can."

"Thanks," Jonny said and hung up the phone, staring at it. That hadn't been as comforting or as helpful as he'd hoped it would be. If Phil couldn't know . . . if Phil wasn't going to tell Race where he was . . . did Phil even _know_ where he was?

"You okay?" asked O'Neill, and Jonny nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Please, go on with the questions," he said.

Colonel O'Neill nodded, his lips tight with something that looked a lot like sympathy. Jonny looked away. "So," the man said, "you said it seemed almost normal at first. When did you realize it wasn't 'normal'?"

Jonny took another deep breath and managed to control his emotions. "Well, Hadji and I were laying bets about just how melodramatic this guy would be, based on the architecture and decor, when Dad suddenly told us to be quiet." Jonny bit his lip. "See the room was kind of a weird mix of Greek and Egyptian elements. Grecian style columns with cartouches engraved in the fluting, and all the textiles had Egyptian symbols." Jonny gulped. "All the groups of symbols were Egyptian except one."

The two men exchanged impenetrable glances, and then Dr. Jackson leaned forward. "What were the symbols on that one?"

"I don't know. Hadji didn't recognize them either, but Dad just about dropped his teeth when Hadji pointed them out. They were on a wall. He went right up to them and stared for a couple of minutes, not answering any of our questions." His dad's back had been stiff with more tension than Jonny had ever seen. "He whirled and looked around the room, looking absolutely stunned."

"Did he tell you what the symbols meant?"

Jonny shook his head. His gut went very cold with the recollection. "When he turned around – I've never seen him so –" Jonny shook his head. "He said that we had to be careful, had to . . . to try not to get our captors too angry. He said we couldn't count on rescue, and that escape might be harder than usual." He blinked, realization hitting him. "I bet he knew – I bet he thought –" He broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Dr. Jackson cleared his throat when Jonny stopped speaking. "Can you tell me what the symbols looked like?"

He nodded. "Can I have some paper and I'll –" He froze. "Wait, my – there's something in the pocket of my jeans that you might be interested in. Hadji –" He bit his lip and shook his head. "Hadji gave it to me, said it would help get me home."

O'Neill held out his hand for the phone and Jonny handed it to him, then took the clipboard Dr. Jackson was holding out. He hadn't been on various types of scientific expeditions for most of his life without it having some effect. With workmanlike precision, he sketched out a couple of the symbols. After the strength of his father's reaction to them, there was no likelihood that he'd forget them in a hurry. He handed the clipboard back to Dr. Jackson whose eyebrows climbed.

"Why would Dr. Quest have recognized these?" Colonel O'Neill asked, pausing in his phone call to look down at the clipboard. His voice sounded harsh and alarmed.

"I showed them to him," Dr. Jackson said, "when I went to try and recruit him. The powers that be really wanted him in the program and gave me permission to make a pretty intense effort to draw him in."

"What do they mean?" Jonny asked urgently.

Dr. Jackson pursed his lips, seeming to notice Jonny's presence again suddenly. "Well, the phrase isn't complete, but it looks like it might be something as straightforward as the name of the room you were in."

"Why would that get my dad so upset?" Jonny asked skeptically.

"It wasn't the content," the linguist said, shaking his head. "I honestly doubt your father translated them that quickly, with as little exposure to the language as he's had . . . but . . . You see, Jonny, this isn't a human language."

"And my father knew that." Jonny meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement. After all, he already knew the answer, didn't he?

"Yes, Jonny," Dr. Jackson said. "Yes, he did."

O'Neill put the receiver down. "I've got someone bringing your personal effects, everything but your clothes, up here."

"Why not my clothes?" Jonny asked.

The soldier gave him an amused look. "Evidently they've already been tossed into a washing machine."

Jonny flushed. "I didn't want to put on what they gave me to wear, so I washed my own stuff the best I could."

"No criticism intended," O'Neill said. "Now, what happened next? Your father was warning you to mind your Ps and Qs, and then . . ."

"Then six guys came in," Jonny said, grimacing. "They had odd things on their foreheads, and those bizarre snakey pistol things. One of them spoke to my father in a language that neither Hadji nor I understood. Dad seemed to, though, and he . . ." Jonny rubbed his eye, trying to keep from crying in front of these men.

O'Neill picked up a box of tissues and handed them across to him. "I really ought to dust this office more often," he said obliquely.

Nodding, Jonny took a couple of tissues. "He spoke back, kind of like he was testing the waters, and one of them hit him across the face." Anger surged through him. "Hadji and I tried to stop them, but they fired those weapons at us, and . . . we woke up awhile later and he was gone. We were alone, and . . . and there was no way out." They had tried to escape when food was brought to them, but nothing had worked. They'd been two slightly built teenagers against a bunch of enormous men with superhuman strength and incredible weapons.

"Then what?" asked Colonel O'Neill.

"Then nothing, for three days. Just Hadji and me, and periodic food."

"And after three days?"

Jonny looked involuntarily over at the tissue box and Dr. Jackson put it in reach. "After three days, my father came back."

Their expressions told him that they knew what that meant better than he did and he hunched slightly. "It looked like him, anyway, but it wasn't – I don't think – it can't have been."

"No, it probably wasn't," said Dr. Jackson very gently. "Tell us what happened."

Jonny gulped, snatched out a couple of tissues angrily, and said, "He came in with those guards and spoke, in that language. I ran up to him, I'd been so worried, I didn't even hear what was happening, what he was saying." They were silent, waiting for him. Jonny reached up and rubbed one of the bruises on his face. "He knocked me to the ground. I was dazed for a couple of minutes, but I heard Hadji yelling. He got me sitting up, started trying to help me stand, but the guards grabbed him. He fought, but there was nothing either of us could do. The door slammed shut and I was alone."

O'Neill reached out and squeezed his shoulder and Jonny looked away. "I'm sorry, this may seem kind of heartless, but we do need to know." Jonny nodded. "What happened then?"

"Nothing," Jonny said through the lump in his throat. "Until today. Then Hadji came and it was . . . it was extremely strange."

"Was he different, like your father?"

There was a knock at the door. O'Neill got up and answered it while Jonny turned his head away. The door shut again and O'Neill walked back over with a small box. "Here's your stuff."

Jonny opened the box and pulled out the crumple of parchment. "This is it, this is what Hadji brought me." He handed it across to Dr. Jackson. "He came, and it was terrifying and bizarre. He was him and then he was not him. It went back and forth."

Dr. Jackson looked down at the scrawled symbols and his eyes widened in astonishment. "Look here, Jack, it's . . . it's the . . . it's the address for Earth, from P(string)." O'Neill looked down and then at Jonny's face. "And you say your brother gave this to you? After he'd been taken away by the Goa'uld?"

"The what?" Jonny asked, swallowing. "He was taken away by those men who were chasing me."

"Those would be the Jaffa," Dr. Jackson said. "They serve the Goa'uld."

"And what are this Goa'uld?" Jonny asked.

"I'm not sure we're authorized to tell you –" started O'Neill.

"Jack!" The linguist looked at Colonel O'Neill, who sighed.

"Right." He grimaced. "Go ahead, Daniel."

"The Goa'uld are . . . they're a parasitic race of beings that require host bodies to survive." Jonny felt his jaw drop and he stared at the younger of the two men. "They've been using humans for this purpose for thousands of years, because they can use their technology to keep human bodies alive indefinitely." Jonny looked over at Colonel O'Neill who nodded soberly.

"Are you saying that there's an alien living in my father's body?" Jonny asked. "And . . ." He paused, shaking his head. "And Hadji. That explains a lot."

"How so?" O'Neill asked.

"Well, it was like Hadji was having a fight inside his own mind, like there were two people inside his head. One of them had glowing eyes and an oddly distorted voice, and the other was just Hadji."

"And he helped you escape?" asked O'Neill, blinking.

"He came and it was like I said, there were two of them in there, fighting for dominance. One moment, he gave me an almighty shove across the room, the next he rushed over and apologized for the thing inside him." Jonny fought back tears at the memory of the desperate, horror-stricken look on his brother's face. "He said . . . he said he had learned a great deal, and that there was a way to get me home, that I would understand when I got to a circle of stone . . ." Shaking his head, Jonny trailed off. "He must have meant that Stargate thing. I thought he meant a circle on the ground, but . . . maybe not."

"And then?" O'Neill asked.

"And then he told me how and when to make my escape. I followed his instructions and started running."

O'Neill nodded. "Thank you, Jonny. Now I think we'd better get you back to the infirmary, or Doc Fraiser will have my hide."

Jonny looked at Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill. There was something he didn't understand, something he was missing in the way they were interacting. They knew something that he didn't, or thought they did at any rate. "What is it?" he asked. "Why do you look so freaked out? I could read your reactions up until I mentioned Hadji fighting that thing and then you both went all inscrutable." They exchanged another look and Jonny glared. "What is it?" he asked again.

"Well, Jonny," Dr. Jackson said, "it's really not possible for a human to fight a Goa'uld."

"Maybe you're mistaken," Jonny said. "Hadji helped me to escape. Are you sure he had one of those parasites in him?"

Colonel O'Neill nodded, grimacing. "The glowing eyes and basso voice are a good hint."

"Well, how do they take control? How does it work?" Jonny asked. "I mean, Hadji's got a really highly trained mind. He's got this whole astral plane thing going, and . . . I don't really understand all of it, but maybe that makes a difference?"

"Astral plane?" asked Colonel O'Neill, raising an eyebrow.

Jonny nodded. "I'm certain it was Hadji who gave me that," he said, pointing at the parchment. "Not the . . . the other."

"Well, Jonny, I'm very serious about getting you back to the infirmary. I suspect that Janet will call any minute to demand your return, so let's get you back on your feet, or rather, foot."

"Actually, Jack, I've got a couple of quick questions for Jonny, if you don't mind," Dr. Jackson said.

The colonel raised an eyebrow. "Do I get to tell Janet that you decided to delay his return?" As the two men glared at each other, Jonny was reminded of the way he and Hadji behaved on occasion.

"Sure, Jack, whatever," Dr. Jackson said, then turned to Jonny, giving him a friendly grin. Jonny raised his own eyebrows in amusement to see a couple of adults acting like kids. "So, Jonny, these questions don't pertain to today's events so much as to . . . well, as to your state of mind."

"Daniel!" O'Neill exclaimed, and Jonny looked at him in surprise, wondering what caused the strong reaction.

The linguist raised a hand and Colonel O'Neill subsided, muttering. "You made a remark about not being hysterical, and I wanted to pursue that a little." O'Neill crossed his arms, looking suspicious, but Jonny just nodded. "Now, to be completely honest, I put that reaction – or lack thereof – down to shock, but you implied it was something different."

Jonny shrugged. "Oh, there's probably a lot of shock in there," he said. "Loads of denial, too. But like I said earlier, this isn't the first time bad guys ever grabbed us." _Maybe the scariest . . ._ he thought, shuddering at the memory of his father's iron hand knocking him to the floor.

The linguist's eyebrows knit. "I don't understand," he said. "Are you saying you've been abducted multiple times?"

Jonny sighed. "Dr. Jackson, my father is an internationally famous scientist who has doctorates in a number of different fields. He's done a lot of original research, worked for the government on classified projects, and so on." Dr. Jackson nodded, looking disturbed. O'Neill's irritation had evaporated, and he, too, was listening with interest. "He's also very rich and owns an international research and development company. I've lived most of my life in a pretty strange world."

"How so?" Dr. Jackson asked.

Jonny looked away. _Talk freely, huh? Phil wouldn't have said it if he hadn't meant it._ "My mother was murdered when I was six." They both nodded, but that wasn't surprising. It had hit all the papers and rocked the academic community. He cleared his throat. "Not a lot of people know why, but it was to shut down her research and my father's." Dr. Jackson's eyes widened. "Dad was supposed to die that night, too, but . . ." Jonny bit his lip. "That's when Race became my bodyguard. You see, people all over the world either want my father dead or working for them. We met Hadji, actually, when he saved my father's life. That was when I was seven."

O'Neill's eyes widened in shock. "How old was Hadji, then?"

"He was nine. He was charming snakes on a Calcutta street for loose change, and he used the top of the snake basket to block a knife someone threw at my dad's back." They were both staring at him. "See, there was someone making nerve gas in a remote facility in some hills, and testing it on local villagers. Dad was called in to investigate." Their expressions were stunned, and Jonny gave them a half-smile. "It's easy for people to dismiss my dad as a brilliant but eccentric inventor with a ton of money, but he's a lot more than that."

"But that still –" Dr. Jackson shook his head. "You implied that getting kidnapped is normal for you."

"Not normal exactly," Jonny protested. "Just not unexpected."

"But your father is an international figure," Dr. Jackson said, shaking his head incredulously. "If you were getting kidnapped, or he was, all the time, wouldn't it hit the news?"

Jonny looked around at the office, saw a picture on the wall of Dr. Jackson, Colonel O'Neill and a woman standing on a meadow with a gas giant looming in the sky behind them, and he had a feeling it wasn't a photoshopped image. Gesturing at it and at the odd ordnance lying around, he said, "Shouldn't this be making the tabloids at least? A good piece of my life is classified. That's why I didn't want to talk to you. I'm not really supposed to tell people that the last time I was held prisoner by enemies of the country was about six months ago, because the government doesn't want to explain what my father was doing at that point." He shrugged. "Or that Dr. Benton Quest's son was vulnerable to attack."

"This is just a little bizarre," O'Neill said, and Jonny could tell that the colonel was wondering if Jonny was trying to elicit sympathy or something.

"And this isn't?" Jonny asked. "Look, it happens. Someone decides my dad has something and they grab him, or they grab me and Hadji, or they grab all five of us, or any combination of the group. We get away, the bad guys are foiled, and life goes on." Remembering where his father was abruptly, he gulped and looked down at his hands. "Of course, usually Race is around, and we're not on another planet in the clutches of aliens." He let out a snarl of frustration, startling both his listeners. "This just sucks!" he growled. He glared at his foot. "I don't usually get hurt, either, but I think that energy weapon grazed me and threw off my balance."

"Energy weapon?" asked Colonel O'Neill in some alarm.

"Yeah, one of those snakey pistol things, you know." He looked at them. "You do know, right?"

O'Neill opened a drawer and pulled something out. "One of these?" he asked, holding out the object in his flat palm.

Jonny nodded, and Dr. Jackson said, "Isn't that supposed to be in the armory?"

"Yeah, well, sue me," O'Neill said.

"What is it?" Jonny asked.

They both spoke at once. "A Zat Nikatel," Dr. Jackson said.

"We call 'em Zat guns," O'Neill replied, "and you've really got to report it any time you've been hit by one, because two hits too close together are fatal." Jonny's jaw dropped. "Did you mention this to Dr. Fraiser?"

Jonny shook his head. "She didn't ask, and I wasn't thinking about it. It didn't really hurt me, just threw off my balance."

The phone rang and O'Neill reached out gingerly to pick it up. "O'Neill," he said. His eyebrows raised and he started nodding. "Yes, Janet. We were just bringing him –" He paused, clearly listening. "No, Janet, we only just found out. Yes, I'll have him there in a jiffy."

When O'Neill hung up, he stood up and leaned down like he was going to pick Jonny up. Seizing one of his crutches, Jonny fended him off. "I know how to use these as weapons," he said, glaring. "I'm fine. I can make it to the infirmary on my own, thank you very much."

O'Neill backed off, and Jonny levered himself to his feet. "Which way?" he asked. He'd followed sort of blindly earlier, but he wanted to know his way around this place as quickly as possible.

By the time they reached the infirmary, Jonny was feeling very tired, and his underarms were just slightly raw. The doctor had him back on an examination bed instantly and was looking into his eyes. "The general wants to see you two," she said to Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill, over her shoulder.

Jonny grimaced. "You looked me over really carefully less than an hour ago," he said to the doctor. "Nothing's changed, has it?" He blinked in sudden alarm. "Has it? You haven't turned up anything scary in my blood work, have you?"

Both Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill paused, looking at the doctor who shook her head. "No, Jonny, everything's coming up normal." She brushed Jonny's hair back from his forehead.

"Ah," Colonel O'Neill said, giving Dr. Jackson a significant look.

The linguist nodded. "Right."

"What?" Jonny asked, baffled.

"She's just gone all maternal on you," said the colonel, grinning. "Ride it out. Maybe it will pass."

The doctor turned and glared at him. "You know, colonel, your annual physical is coming up next week," she said, an arctic tone in her voice.

O'Neill rocked back on his heels. "And we both know you're far too professional to let anything like this influence you," he said complacently.

There was a pause, and the man's confident look faltered a little. Dr. Jackson's lips twitched. She crossed her arms and tilted her head. "No, I'm not."

O'Neill's eyes widened and he said, "The general wants us, you said?" She nodded. The two men turned to go, but as they left, Jonny heard O'Neill say very quietly to Dr. Jackson, "She was kidding, right?"

Dr. Jackson shrugged slightly and then they were out the door. Jonny turned to Dr. Fraiser. "I am all right, you know," he said.

She nodded, looking down at him warmly. "I know," she said. "But you need rest. Did you get something to eat?" Jonny nodded. She handed him a little cup with some pills in it and he made a face. Still, he swallowed them with the glass of water she handed him next. She smiled and brushed his hair back again. "Why don't you try to take a nap."

Sighing, Jonny lay back on the bed, wishing he at least had a little warm furry body curled up by his hip. _Does Bandit need clearance?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Daniel and Jack walked into the briefing room to find it full of people, all discussing the situation at the tops of their voices. Then they heard a voice from across the room that made them both stiffen with annoyance. Daniel looked over to see Colonel Simmons standing with his hands on his briefcase. "Obviously your security protocols are insufficient if the Goa'uld have managed to take an ordinary human from his home here on Earth."

"They didn't leave through our Stargate," Daniel said, stepping forward.

Simmons' gaze fell on him and his eyes narrowed. "And how do you know?"

Daniel blinked several times and opened his mouth, but he didn't know how to answer a question that patently stupid. _Does he really think we leave it open all the time, with a light in the window, inviting anyone and everyone in?_ "Sam?" he said helplessly.

"Well, sir, first of all, it's monitored twenty-four/seven," Sam said. "And we have logs of every time it so much as hiccups."

Simmons' eyebrows rose superciliously, but before he could speak, General Hammond said, "I've got a team going over every single inconsistency for the past eight weeks. However, I am certain that they didn't get the Quests through the Stargate."

"Again, why not?"

"Maybe because one of our satellites shows an anomaly that wasn't recognized at the time as being more than a phantom," General Hammond said. He placed a wide chart on the table and gestured. Daniel peered down, but his knowledge didn't really extend into this area. Sam bent excitedly down and looked closely at it.

"I can see why no one would pick this up, sir, it may be nothing even yet. What's the date?"

"Last Wednesday. Which is when Quest and his sons disappeared. Now, Colonel O'Neill, Dr. Jackson, what's the boy's story? What happened to him?"

"From the sound of it, not a lot," Jack said. "I'd guess they were on a ship. Jonny didn't see much beyond a room, a few Jaffa, and his family."

"But what happened?"

Daniel pulled out a chair and sat down. "Dr. Quest has been taken over as a host," he said dispiritedly. "As has Hadji, the older boy. From what Jonny said, though, it appears that Hadji is fighting the Goa'uld's control."

"Is that possible?" Hammond ask, sitting down opposite him.

"I don't know," Daniel said, shaking his head. "Jonny says he's got a highly trained mind, and we know that in the past hosts with enough mental skill and determination have been able to influence their symbiotes. But what Jonny described wasn't influence, it was outright fighting over the body."

"Perhaps the Goa'uld is weak?" suggested Sam.

"Jonny seemed to think it had something to do with the Astro Dome," Jack said, settling into the chair next to Daniel's.

Daniel rolled his eyes over Jack's dumb colonel routine. "Astral planes," he said, giving his friend a glare.

"What do astral planes have to do with fighting the Goa'uld?" demanded Simmons. "And just what are you doing listening to a fifteen-year-old boy? I'm sure he was mistaken about his brother managing to fight the Goa'uld. What is the older boy, seventeen?"

"Well, we'd better hope that Jonny's right, sir," Jack said. "Because according to Jonny, Hadji helped him escape. If it wasn't Hadji, then it was a Goa'uld."

"And if it was a Goa'uld," Sam said, her eyes widening, "then Jonny didn't escape."

"No," General Hammond agreed. "If it was a Goa'uld, then Jonny was let go, and we may have a fifteen-year-old boy who's programmed to do something terrible." He looked weary beyond words, Daniel thought. "I've already communicated with the Tok'ra, and they're sending Anise to check if he's a zatarc. Dr. Fraiser's already looked for the usual culprits. He doesn't contain any bombs, no naquadah, nothing hostile that we can discover."

"If there's a chance he's a zatarc, you'll have to put him in isolation," Simmons said.

Daniel shook his head. "That wouldn't be good for him. He's been alone a lot over the last few days. He's in the infirmary right now, so unless he's been programmed to kill Dr. Fraiser or one of her nurses, it seems unlikely that he's going to grow suddenly violent."

"True," Jack said, nodding. "Hey, Simmons, maybe you ought to go look in on him, show your concern." Daniel concealed his amusement with some difficulty.

Simmons merely gave jack a muted glare and said, "I think you should put him in isolation, general. You can't be too careful. What if he's not programmed for assassination?"

"Well, currently he's under fairly heavy sedation," Dr. Fraiser said, coming in. "So whatever he might be programmed for, he's not going to be able to take any action for awhile."

"Any news?" asked General Hammond.

"He's under a lot of stress, poor kid," she said. "And he's not admitting to it or to his worry, or anything else much. He's in shock."

"Or he's been brainwashed," said Simmons.

Janet looked royally peeved. "Unfortunately, that's possible. I don't think it's likely, but it's possible."

"I don't think it's remotely likely," said Jack. "Look, I spent an afternoon with the three kids in that family. Admittedly it was a few years back, but he sounded like the kid I remember. Besides, he didn't seem to be off in his own little world or anything of that kind."

"I understand that he seems almost unnaturally calm," said Simmons. "That after a few initial protests regarding leaving his father and brother behind, he became very quiet. That sounds as if he were, in fact, off in his own little world."

"Actually, it sound remarkably like shock," Janet said firmly. "I think we have to make the tests because it's procedure, but I'm reasonably certain that Jonny is himself in that sense. As to the zatarc thing . . ." She shrugged. "That's out of my department."

"Well," Simmons said, "in case he is a zatarc, perhaps you should take advantage of this opportunity to put him into isolation, while he's sedated."

"Don't you think he's lost enough today?" Daniel asked, resisting the urge to tell the NID colonel that he sounded like a broken record. "He had to leave behind the last of his family, and we're not even letting him contact the man who is his guardian."

"Dr. Jackson," Simmons said, and Daniel ground his teeth. Simmons was the kind of man who turned speaking a person's name into an opportunity to ooze condescension. "No one regrets more than I that a young man of such promise has been dragged into this terrible mess, but we have to take steps to protect ourselves."

"Hey, Simmons," Jack said, "why don't you give it a rest?"

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond said in a warning tone, but Daniel could tell that the general would rather pat Jack on the back than admonish him. Jack took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, tacitly accepting the reproof. "Exactly how did they get captured?"

"We don't know, actually," Daniel said. "He started with waking up in the room they were kept in. Apparently his father recognized some Goa'uld writing on the wall, but before he could do more than tell the boys that they would have to be careful, the Jaffa came and took him away. Jonny didn't see him again for three days, and by then he was already a host."

"We're sure of that?"

Daniel nodded, pushing thoughts of Sha're out of his mind. Jonny's father and brother were still alive, and they had to save them. "Unfortunately, the story is all too familiar for there to be any doubt. Dr. Quest was taken on the first day, Hadji three days later. Then today he came to Jonny and gave him the gate coordinates for Earth and made it possible for him to escape."

"What?" Simmons demanded. "How does this Hadji know the gate coordinates for Earth?"

"No doubt he learned them from the Goa'uld that has attempted to take him over," Daniel said. "Given what we've learned from the Tok'ra, it's clear that the passage of knowledge is two-way, but most hosts are not in any position to make use of what they've learned."

"And I sincerely doubt that this one was, either," Simmons said.

The klaxons went off suddenly, and the announcement rang over the speakers. "Unscheduled off world activation."

Hammond was on his feet instantly and out into the stairwell down to the control room. The others followed him immediately, but Simmons lingered, and Daniel, noticing, found himself unwilling to leave the smarmy little creep alone. The colonel wandered over to the window that looked down into the gateroom. "I'm sure you find yourself very much in sympathy with young Mr. Quest, Dr. Jackson," Simmons said. "You, too, had two people you cared about taken by the Goa'uld. But you must remember that positive endings to such situations are rare."

A sharp stab of cold rage shot through Daniel. His eyes narrowed and his chin came up. Simmons hadn't even had the grace to face him when he said that. He could tell that his voice was harsh with anger. "I am the least likely person on Earth to forget that," he said.

"Oh?" said Simmons, turning. "I was under the impression that both your wife and your brother-in-law had what could be loosely termed 'happy endings.' Skaara is free of his Goa'uld symbiote, and your wife is dead, and so no longer suffering. Jonathon may not be so lucky."

"Thank you, colonel, I'll try to keep that in mind," Daniel said, turning on his heel to leave. He'd gotten ten steps down the stairs before he thought better of it. That had been as calculated as it had been callous, and Daniel wanted to know what the purpose could have been.

Quietly, he returned to the door of the conference room and peered around the edge. General Hammond had been toying with a pad of paper on the table during their meeting, jotting down notes. Simmons was standing beside the table, already flipped to the second page. Daniel took a quiet step or two backwards and then walked normally back into the room. Simmons was looking at the briefing screen with an utterly unconvincing air of interest, seeing as the screen held only the SGC symbol. Daniel reached down and picked up the notebook. "General Hammond asked me to come and get his notes," he said.

Simmons merely grunted as Daniel swept the table with his eyes for anything else that might be private, then left the room. He went down to the control room where he could see General Hammond and the others welcoming Anise and her colleague down in the gate room. Sam and Dr. Fraiser walked out with Anise, presumably to take her somewhere that she could set up, and Jack and General Hammond started back towards the stairs.

When the two of them came into the control room, Daniel casually held out the pad of paper. "Here, general."

Hammond took it and looked down at it with a raised eyebrow. "Why did you –" he started, but then he stopped, looking quizzically at Daniel.

"I don't know what's on it," Daniel said. "I didn't read it, but I thought there was some chance there was information there that you didn't want Simmons to have."

Hammond's second eyebrow joined the first. "I see, Dr. Jackson. I appreciate the thought." He looked down at the papers. "Come with me in my office," he said, glancing up at the stairs toward the briefing room. They followed him and took the seats he offered. "I have a favor to ask the both of you," he said.

"Yes, general?" Jack asked.

"Jonny seems to be very self-possessed young man," Hammond said, putting his notepad on the table in front of him. "But he's still only fifteen, and he's got a lot on his plate right now, and he's facing it alone. I wanted to ask you two, if you were comfortable with the notion, to keep an eye out for him, look after him a bit."

"You don't have to ask, general," Jack said.

"Of course, sir," Daniel replied.

"I know that," Hammond said, smiling briefly. "But in light of that fact, I think there are a few things you ought to know." He looked down at his notepad. "Did Simmons get a look at this?" he asked.

"He was looking at the second page when I saw him," Daniel said.

"Damn. I shouldn't have been so careless." He glared down at the paper in front of him as if it were to blame, then he looked up. "When I spoke to Director Corvin, he told me a number of things he thought I would need to know if we were going to have Jonny on the base for any length of time."

"Like what, for instance?" Jack asked.

"Well, the first thing he told me is that Jonny had been described by some of his agents as 'an accident looking for a place to happen.' Others have described him as catastrophically precocious. But most all of them agree that he's a prodigy."

"A prodigy?" Daniel repeated, raising his eyebrows. Somehow that word had a lot more impact when used to describe Dr. Benton Quest's son.

"What, does that mean he plays the violin or something?" Jack asked.

Daniel dropped his face into his hands and then, after rubbing his eyes, turned his head to look at Jack who was looking unrepentantly inquisitive. Hammond gave him a very dry look and said, "Not that I'm aware of." Jack's expression remained blandly curious. "Now, Director Corvin says that we should pay close attention to what Jonny has to tell us. His observations and conclusions could have great value, so I want you to tell me if he says anything that sounds remotely significant."

"Of course, general," Daniel said.

"I've chosen the two of you for a couple of reasons. He already knows you both, and has proven to be willing to talk to you. Also, you are two of the few people who have been granted the correct security clearance to talk to him about some of his more classified experiences." Hammond glanced down at the paper again. "Furthermore, I gather that he's spent relatively little time around adult women, so he may not be entirely comfortable with them. You two also have the added benefit of mirroring his family situation to some degree."

"How so?" Jack asked.

"Well, he was raised by his father, a scientist, and Roger Bannon, who was a Navy Seal and then an I-1 agent. The men are close friends, and from what Corvin says, it's a toss up which one is the primary caregiver." Hammond grimaced. "I need you two to stand in for them."

"Is there any reason we can't bring this Roger Bannon here?" asked Daniel. General Hammond's expression answered the question, and Daniel couldn't help feeling sorry for this kid, caught as he was in the government's web of secrecy.

The silence lengthened, and then Jack stood up abruptly. "Well, if we're going to be acting as Jonny's surrogate family while his father's away, we should probably go and be moral support while Anise plays her little mind games."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea, colonel. Dismissed."

Daniel could tell that General Hammond didn't like isolating Jonny like this, but their choices were pretty slim. As they reached the lab that Anise was setting up in, she looked up and said, "Where is the boy?"

Daniel raise his eyebrows. Dr. Fraiser was in the room, but Anise was looking at Jack, clearly asking him. "The boy has a name, Anise," Jack said. "Jonny is – well, you'd better ask Dr. Fraiser."

Janet looked extremely irritated. "As I've already said, Jonny is heavily sedated. He needs rest right now more than anything, and while he's sedated, he's not any danger even if he is a zatarc."

Anise nodded. "That is true. How long do you plan to keep him sedated?"

"At least another five hours," Janet said. "We weren't expecting you to arrive so quickly."

Daniel was growing uncomfortable. Anise's eyes kept drifting towards him, and he crossed his arms uneasily, looking away.

"I had just completed a mission and was available when the call came through," the Tok'ra said solemnly. "It seems quite alarming. As I understand it, this boy and his family were taken off your planet by means unknown."

Jack nodded. "It looks like it must have been a ship, though," he said.

"I see." Anise made one last connection and stood up straight. She walked over towards Daniel. "How have you been, Dr. Jackson?" she asked, smiling.

"Fine," Daniel said, taking a step back. "Look, Jack, I think I'll go sit with Jonny so he has a familiar face nearby in case he wakes up." Before anyone could respond, Daniel nodded at Anise and left the room quickly. Jack had told him ages ago that Freya, Anise's host had made a pass at him, but she had told him then that Anise, the symbiote, was attracted to Daniel. The thought that a symbiote, even if she was Tok'ra, found him attractive was a little nauseating, but he had a feeling that telling her that wouldn't help matters any.

* * *

Jack looked over at the Tok'ra scientist after Daniel and Dr. Fraiser had left and shrugged. "I think you're barking up the wrong tree there, Anise."

She looked at him blandly. "I do not understand your meaning."

"Daniel isn't interested," he said.

Anise tilted her head. "I have not yet made a proposition. I have been speaking with Jacob Carter concerning the mating rituals of your culture, and I am attempting to abide by your customs. I believe this is called 'flirting.'"

"Um . . . yeah," Jack said. "But . . . look, I've known Daniel a long time, and I think I have a pretty good handle on his personality. All you're doing is making him uncomfortable."

"The process takes a long time, according to Jacob. Eventually he will relax and come to see that I am not a threat. I can be patient."

"Okay, right," Jack said. "That's true, but I think you're forgetting one nearly insurmountable difficulty." Anise raised an eyebrow. "No offense, but you are a Goa'uld."

She stood staring at him for a moment, then said, "I am not Hathor."

Jack gaped at her, more than a little stunned by the way she jumped straight to the point. "No, you're not, but I'm not sure how much of a difference that's going to make to him. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he has any ill will towards you or towards any of the Tok'ra, but on a deep down level –"

"That is understandable," Anise said. "But I am not Hathor, and Daniel knows that. And this is not your decision in any case."

"I just really think that making any kind of a move on Daniel would be a bad choice, Anise."

"I had gathered that," she said dryly. "There is no harm, however, in flirting, and you may rest assured that I would make no 'move' that was not mutual."

"I –"

"Furthermore, I don't believe that this is any of your business."

"I'm just giving you a little free advice," Jack said.

"I do not need it," Anise said, then turned to her equipment and ignored him.

Jack wandered out and caught sight of Simmons at the end of the hallway. "Hey there!" he called. "Need anything?"

Simmons gave no evidence of having heard the question, merely walking around the corner and then out of sight. Jack went up to Sam's lab where he found her in a huddle with a couple of other brainy types discussing the possible shape of the anomaly. Jack listened for a few minutes, but there wasn't anything he could understand, much less contribute, so he slipped back out of the room again and went back to his own office. He made a couple of phone calls and arranged for an airman to act as an 'aide' to Colonel Simmons for the duration of his stay, just so that they would know where the bastard was and what he was up to.

Then he settled down to finish up his report on M(string). The mission the day before might have been short and sweet, but somehow the reports never were.

Finally done, he e-mailed his report to Major Perez in Records, fully expecting to get it back with six or seven queries and a terse comment regarding his grammar, then leaned back in his chair. It still seemed rotten to him that they were essentially keeping this kid prisoner when he'd done nothing wrong. And what were they going to do with him if he was a zatarc? Deprogramming hadn't done Lieutenant Astor any good, and there was still the chance of brain damage. The more he thought about it, the more he thought they needed to get what was left of the boy's family here to help him to cope with all this.

His mind made up, Jack went back to General Hammond's office and went in without knocking. Someone was with the general in one of his guest chairs, his back to Jack. "Sorry for interrupting, sir," Jack said, walking up to stand next to the man in the chair. "I really think we need to talk about Jonny's situation, sir. It –"

General Hammond seemed confounded by Jack's attitude. "Colonel O'Neill," he started, but Jack shook his head.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but he's a kid. He deserves a little consideration –"

"O'Neill!" Hammond barked. His eyes turned Jack's attention sharply towards the man in the guest chair.

Jack spared himself a glance at the man, then turned back to Hammond. "Sir, I –" At that moment, the identity of the visitor penetrated and his brain seized up. He turned slowly back to face the man.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," General Hammond said, giving Jack a glare that promised the possibility of six months of KP in the colonel's future.

"Not at all, General Hammond," the president said. "As it happens, I agree with Colonel O'Neill. Jonny is fifteen, he's a citizen of our country, and he's the victim in this situation. I understand that only so much can be done given security considerations, but what can be done, should be."

"Of course, sir."

"Now, I would like to see him, if you would be so kind," President Stevens said.

General Hammond's eyes widened. "Sir, I can't approve that," he said. "There is still the possibility that he might be a zatarc, and if that's the case, he might go completely out of control the moment he sees you."

"That seems unlikely," Stevens said. "The Goa'uld couldn't know that Jonny would see me anytime soon. Besides, surely you've checked him over pretty carefully. He's unarmed, I presume?"

"Yes, but –"

"And if a squadron of airmen can't overpower one teenaged kid, I'm not sure what we're paying them for," the president went on, his smile taking the sting out of his words.

"Well, Mr. President, the last I heard, he was asleep," Jack said. "Dr. Fraiser won't want to wake him, I don't think."

"Then I'll sit by his bed and wait for him to wake up," Stevens said, and, surprised, Jack glanced involuntarily over at General Hammond. "I think it would probably be good for him to have someone familiar nearby when he awakens."

Jack nodded into the silence that followed this. "Yes, that's why Daniel – Dr. Jackson – is with him right now."

The president looked at Jack for a moment, then said, "And he's met Dr. Jackson how many times? Once?"

"Yes, sir," Jack replied.

"He knows me a little better. Now, I insist, general. Have as many of your men on hand as you like, but I am going to sit with Jonny, and that's final."

"Very well, sir," General Hammond said. "But it's against my better judgment."

"Noted," said the president.

Jack followed Hammond and Stevens out of the office, too stunned to really know what to think. They were working on one of the most important jobs in the country – hell, in the world – yet the president had never yet made an appearance. Not until Jonny Quest showed up from another planet. It sure put things into perspective. What perspective . . . now that was still unclear.

* * *

It wasn't the easiest thing in the world trying to read a book on ancient culture that was written in a language that had evolved away from the Celtic language spoken in the British Isles two thousand years ago, but Daniel was having a go.

When the light from the doorway into the hall was occluded briefly, he looked up to see an extremely familiar figure entering the infirmary, followed closely by General Hammond and Jack. Dr. Fraiser walked across the room, her intent to evict the intruders clear from the set of her shoulders, but it was just as clear that their visitor's identity had stymied her.

She took a deep breath and said, "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"I've come to look in on Jonny," said President Stevens, and Daniel blinked, a little startled. "How much longer do you think he'll sleep?"

"I don't know," Janet said. "Some of the pain meds have got to be wearing off by now, but I'm reluctant to wake him. He needs his rest."

The president nodded. "Thank you, doctor." He turned to Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, would you mind?" he asked, gesturing at the chair.

"Oh, right, of course," Daniel said, standing up. He walked over to stand by Jack, looking back at where the President was settling himself down beside the sleeping boy. All around him, airmen were filing into the room, surrounding the bed. Daniel leaned over to his commander and said, "Jaaaack, what's going on?"

Jack just shrugged, and Daniel had to content himself with that. The president started quizzing Dr. Fraiser about the care Jonny needed and was receiving. Then the president's attention returned to General Hammond, who was standing there with the rest of them, looking nearly as stunned. "So, general, what are your plans for Jonny's care?"

"Well, I've detailed Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill to keep an eye on him while he's here. It was something I worked out with Phil Corvin as a reasonable measure, at least in the short term."

"I see. Well, I'll be calling frequently to check up on him. I know you'll take good care of him, but I still owe it to Benton to –"

At that moment, Jonny stirred a little. He squeezed his eyes tightly and then blinked. "What – where –" He sat up sharply. "Dad!"

"It's okay, Jonny, you're okay."

Jonny turned towards the president and eyebrows drew together. He was clearly still muzzy from the deep sleep the pain pills had sent him into. "Bob? What are you doing here?"

Daniel turned to Jack at apparently the same moment Jack turned to him. They mouthed the word 'Bob' in unison.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The president smiled and leaned closer to the boy. "I heard about your little adventure, Jonny, and I thought I'd come see how you were for myself."

"Oh," Jonny said, continuing to blink and squeeze his eyes shut as if the light was giving him difficulties. "I'm fine. But they still have Dad and Hadji and . . . and I haven't been allowed to talk to Race."

"That may have to wait a little, Jonny. You know how these things work."

Jonny nodded disconsolately. "I know." He grimaced. "How long have you been here?"

"A few minutes, that's all. I came as soon as I heard."

"Wow," Jonny said. "Um . . . Bob," He paused, seeming to notice that they had quite a sizable audience. "I'm sorry, I mean, Mr. President. Dad's – I mean, I don't know how much you know about all of this, but –"

"General Hammond filled me in, Jonny. I assure you, we'll do everything we can to ensure Benton and Hadji's safe return."

"And delousing?" Jonny asked. Daniel felt his face go stiff with surprise and the effort it took to keep from laughing at that description of Goa'uld removal.

Beside him, Jack muttered, "I like this kid." Daniel nodded.

"And delousing," the president said reassuringly.

Jonny looked up at the surrounding soldiers. "And no one's going to decide that he would be better off dead?" the boy asked. Remembering Simmons' words about Sha're's 'happy ending,' Daniel thought that was an excellent question. "No offense to anyone here," Jonny went on. "But soldiers can be pretty short-sighted sometimes."

Daniel cleared his throat. "I'm not a soldier," he said.

Jonny gave him a raised eyebrow. "I know, Dr. Jackson, but you're not in charge." _Well, that was straight to the point, no punches pulled._ Daniel darted a sideways glance at Jack who looked completely phlegmatic.

The president cleared his throat. "I've already made it clear to General Hammond that his mandate is to bring your father and brother back alive." Stevens turned towards Hammond with a quick grin. "Not that he needed telling, but the order will give him something to point to if anyone else in his chain of command gets stupid ideas."

"Is it in writing?" Jonny asked.

"I really like this kid," Jack muttered, his expression not changing, and Daniel hid a smirk.

"Not yet, but I'll see to it, Jonny. Now, I should be going, but I'll call tomorrow and check up on you."

"Look, I know Race isn't allowed to come here, but can't I talk to him? If I promise not to mention anything classified? Someone can tell him ahead of time that I'm not allowed to talk about everything, he'll understand that, but I –" The boy broke off, and Daniel thought he knew why. It wasn't easy, especially for a teenager, to admit to needing a parent. Probably especially not for a teenager for whom abduction was an expected part of life.

Stevens took a deep breath. "I'll see what can be arranged, Jonny." He reached out and squeezed Jonny's shoulder. "You take care, son."

The boy nodded. "Say hi to Nicole for me, would you?"

Stevens smiled and said, "Talk to you tomorrow, Jonny."

The president started to leave, but Jonny caught his arm and spoke very quietly to him. While the two spoke privately, General Hammond turned to Dr. Fraiser, drawing her aside from the bed toward Daniel and Jack. "Is he ready for the test, doctor?"

"Let me do a couple of things, and then someone will need to explain it to him."

Hammond nodded. "Jack, you take care of that. You've been through it a couple of times, so you'll be able to tell him what to expect."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, though Daniel could see that he wasn't thrilled with the prospect.

The president came up to the group of them. "Hammond, take good care of him," he said. "And, I have one final request." The general waited attentively. "I'm going to send for his dog. I think Bandit has a high enough security clearance, even for this facility. Can you handle that?"

"Of course, Mr. President."

"Now, let's go back to your office and I can put that order into writing so Jonny can rest easy."

"Thank you, Mr. President." The general nodded to them and then left with President Stevens in tow.

"Bandit?" asked Daniel, smiling at Jonny and crossing back over to the chair beside the hospital bed.

"My dog," Jonny said. "He was at the vet when you came to see my father, Dr. Jackson."

"Nicole?" asked Jack, and Daniel gave him an incredulous look. Trust Jack to seize on the least important aspect of the conversation.

"The president's daughter," Jonny said. "She's really nice, but she's got a thing for Hadji. She got him to go with her to her junior prom last year."

"I see," Jack said.

"Did I hear the general say I have to do some other test?" Jonny asked.

Jack pursed his lips and sounded as if the answer was being wrung out of him. "Yes."

"What kind of test now?"

"Well, that's kind of complicated. See, the Goa'uld have this ability to brainwash people really effectively. The victim doesn't know it happened, neither the victim nor his friends have any way of guessing, and it takes mere minutes to implant the instructions."

Jonny's mouth had opened, at first Daniel thought it was in protest, but then it hung kind of slack for a moment. Snapping it shut, he said, "There's some way to detect it though? Is there a drug involved, or an implant? Wait, why did you let me see the president if there's some chance I'm an assassin?"

"He insisted," Daniel said, smiling despite his unease at the boy's easy acceptance of the notion that he might have been brainwashed into becoming an unconscious assassin.

"No, there's no drug involved," Jack said, and Jonny turned towards him. "At least nothing that leaves any traces, but there is a way to test for it, yes."

Jonny's eyes narrowed as he watched Jack's face. "And you don't like it," the boy said, and Daniel was impressed by the kid's acuity. Jack wasn't being that obvious. "Why not?"

"Well, it involves shining a really bright light in your eyes, which just sucks," Jack said. Daniel rolled his eyes. "It's kind of like a lie detector test, but what it's really testing is whether your conscious memories match your subconscious ones."

"How can it do that?"

"Weeeelll, that I don't know exactly. Daniel?"

"It's a little out of my league, too. But I think that General Hammond just wanted you to tell him what to expect. Anise can explain it to him in more detail." Daniel caught the sardonic look and hastily amended his statement. "Okay, Sam can explain it."

"That's certainly a better bet," Jack said dourly.

"You know," Jonny said suddenly, making them both turn in surprise, "if any of this was meant to be reassuring, I can tell you from my perspective that it's not." Daniel grimaced with embarrassment as the boy continued. "What is this test, who's administering it and what happens if I turn out to be this zatarc whatever thing?"

"That's a bit more complicated," Jack said. "I'm not sure at this point. First thing is to find out if you are one. If you're not, then treatment isn't a concern."

"I see," Jonny said. "What do I have to do?"

"It's like a lie detector, like Jack said," Daniel replied. "You'll have to answer a lot of questions, and the machine will determine whether your answers reflect your memories accurately."

"But you guys don't know exactly how it works?" Jonny asked. Daniel pursed his lips and shook his head. "So who does? I want to ask some questions."

"I'll go fetch Anise," Jack said. "And Sam."

"Who is this Anise?" Jonny asked, turning to Daniel as Jack left. "Is she a scientist?"

"Yes," Daniel said. "But she's not from Earth." Jonny's eyes widened.

"And Sam?"

"Major Samantha Carter. She's a member of our unit, and –"

"She wrote a book on wormhole theory!" Jonny interjected, looking thunderstruck.

Daniel's brows knit. "How did you know that?"

"I read it," Jonny said.

Daniel blinked in surprise. "Did you understand it?" he asked tentatively.

Jonny shrugged in a supremely adolescent gesture. "I got a B."

"What kind of a school do you go to?" Daniel asked incredulously.

"I have a private tutor," Jonny said. "We tried public school, but it didn't work out so great. Besides, I've already taken one of those GED practice tests, and I could pass right now, so it seems kind of pointless."

Sam and Anise arrived before either of them could say anything else. Jonny looked up and smiled, then his brows wrinkled. He leaned over to Daniel and said, "I know you said she wasn't from Earth, but does she have to dress like she's on Star Trek?" Daniel gave him an infinitesimal shrug and turned his face away to keep from laughing. The Tok'ra was wearing a dark blue miniskirt in something like leather with a matching top that covered not much more than the bare essentials of her bosom.

"Jonny, this is Anise. She's one of our allies against the Goa'uld. Anise, this is Jonny Quest."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jonny," said the woman, smiling. "But I am Freya. We thought Jonny would be more comfortable meeting me first." Daniel stared at her, realizing abruptly that none of them had thought to warn Jonny that Anise was Tok'ra, and that the Tok'ra were very like the Goa'uld. She crossed over to the bed and pulled up a stool to sit down.

"I don't understand," Jonny said. "Don't they know you? Or are you and this Anise twins?"

"No, we're not twins, it's a little more complicated than that," said Freya. "I am of the Tok'ra, do you know what that means?" Jonny shook his head. "Well, you know about the Goa'uld, because your father and brother have been taken over by them."

"I just know they're parasitic, and that they need a host to survive," Jonny said. "And that they take over the mind of the host if they can." Daniel bit his lip and sighed. He certainly hoped that Hadji was the exception to the rule, because Jonny was going to take it hard if he wasn't.

"You are correct in essence, but there is more to it than that," she said. "Please allow me give you a more detailed explanation." Daniel looked over at Jack with a raised eyebrow.

"Sure," Jonny said, looking very pale and tense.

"I would be correct, would I not, to say that not all humans are good people, and not all of them are evil. There is a mix of both, right?" Jonny nodded. "There are two factions among the symbiote species. The first faction, the Goa'uld, take unwilling hosts and will do whatever it takes to survive. They are power hungry, sadistic and cruel."

"Um, Freya, do we really have to –" Daniel started, concerned about the boy's reaction, but Jonny shook his head.

"Go on," he said firmly to Freya.

"There is another group who object to the Goa'uld way of life. They only take willing hosts, and instead of taking full control of the host body, they share the body with their host. It is in every way a symbiotic relationship. The symbiote heals the host and extends the host's lifespan, and the host allows the symbiote to live, grants it freedom of movement and activity."

"So the Goa'uld are parasites, but this other group are more like true symbiotes, living in a give and take with the host organism," Jonny asked. Freya nodded. "But that isn't really totally symbiotic, is it? The host could live without the creature, right?"

"Yes, it could."

"And you're telling me this for a reason, right?" Jonny asked. "Not just because it might be useful someday in Trivial Pursuit?"

Freya looked up at Daniel with an eyebrow raised. "It's a board game, never mind," Jack said.

"Ah." She nodded, then smiled at Jonny. "Yes, I am telling you this because the second group are the Tok'ra."

Daniel expected a stronger reaction, but Jonny's eyes just widened. "And you're one of these Tok'ra people?" She nodded. "So you have one of those things inside you?"

"Her name is Anise, and she is a scientist," Freya said. "Would you like to meet her?" Jonny nodded mutely, though he looked strung as tight as a bowstring.

Freya dropped her head briefly then looked up and it was Anise. "I am Anise," she said, and Jonny jumped at the sudden change in the voice.

"That's it," he said. "That's what it was like with Hadji. His voice, and then a distorted version of it, like this."

"Of course, it was," Anise said. She had made no move towards Jonny, which Daniel thought was a good choice, because the boy would probably try to throw himself off the bed. "But it is possible for a Goa'uld to counterfeit the host to some extent, to sound like him, and even to imitate the personality."

Jonny shook his head. "It was Hadji," he said. "I know my brother, and I'm certain of it."

"I certainly hope you're right, Jonny, but that is not what I have come to discuss."

"Right," Jonny said. "This test for . . ." He looked at Jack. "Colonel O'Neill, what was the word again?"

Before Jack could insert one of his usual malapropisms, Daniel said, "Zatarc."

"Yes, Jonny," she said. "I understand you have questions."

The boy nodded. "When someone starts talking about scanning my brain, I have questions." What followed was surreal by anyone's standards. Anise, the woman who had been so maddeningly vague about everything she'd ever wanted them to do, who'd avoided questions, who'd refused point blank to explain things to anyone else on a number of occasions, sat quietly beside Jonny's bed and answered every question he asked. When he didn't understand something, she'd go back and clarify. It was both astonishing and extremely annoying.

Finally, Jonny stopped asking questions and sat back thoughtfully. After a moment, he looked up and said, "How many false positives have you gotten?"

Anise lifted her chin and said, "Four."

"And how many have you screened and missed?"

"That's impossible to say," said Sam before Anise could answer, causing the Tok'ra's eyes to flash with irritation. "If the zatarc's conditioning was never triggered, they wouldn't necessarily ever do anything to reveal themselves."

Jonny nodded. "How many zatarcs have you actually caught?"

"Seven, at this time," Anise said.

"And is there a cure?"

There was a silence, and then Anise said, "It has never been successfully cured." Daniel glared at her, and Jack took a step forward looking annoyed. Sam crossed her arms, biting her lips. Dr. Fraiser, however, was looking at Jonny. Daniel looked into the boy's face and saw that he was calm.

"That sucks," he said, just as if this had no relevance to his situation. "Have you tried anything like virtual reality?"

"Virtual reality?" Anise repeated.

"Well, what if you let them go through with their programming in VR?" Daniel felt his eyes widen. Virtual reality. Could that work? "Wouldn't that take care of the problem?"

Anise shook her head. "A zatarc is programmed to suicide instantly upon completing its task."

Jonny nodded, and said, "That would be a drawback in an emotional sense, but you can set safety protocols in the VR programming that wouldn't allow the person to actually kill himself. If you prevent the suicide, what happens?"

"We've never prevented it before. What is this virtual reality you speak of?"

Jonny looked perplexed. "But if you're an alien with advanced technology, surely you have VR?"

"Not that I am aware of, but we may call it something different."

"Well, it's a way that the mind interfaces with a computer," Jonny said. "It would be easier to show you than to explain it, but I can't access Questworld from here, not without my laptop anyway."

"Questworld?" Sam asked, her eyes lighting up with interest. "That's supposed to be the most advanced VR system in the world. I've heard stories, but I thought they had to be exaggeration."

Jonny shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. "It's pretty impressive, and it's come forward in leaps and bounds in the last year. Hadji and Jessie have been tinkering away like mad."

"We should be getting on with the test," Anise said. "You can explain this virtual reality to me later."

"I'm not sure it wouldn't work," Sam said, not really seeming to hear her. "But if the zatarc suicided, wouldn't killing himself in the VR kill him automatically? I mean, don't the autonomic functions just shut down?"

"It hasn't proven to be the case," Jonny said. "We found out by accident once, when one of us got shot in the head during an . . ." He went silent suddenly. "I'm not really supposed to talk about that, though."

"Right," Jack said. "Well, it doesn't matter. We'll just get you tested, find out you're not a zatarc and move on."

"No," Jonny said, and Daniel looked at him in startlement. "I can't go under some kind of lie detector, and right now I haven't got permission to speak freely to anyone but you, General Hammond and Dr. Jackson."

"That's a problem," Jack said. "And the only people who can give you permission are not here."

"No, General Hammond could now," Jonny said. "But he hasn't."

"I do not understand," Anise said. She dropped her head briefly and Freya was back.

"Why does he need permission?" she asked.

"He's a minor," Sam said.

"I understand that he is underage," Anise replied, looking over at Sam with disfavor. "But surely you do not keep your children from talking to people freely."

Jonny shook his head and reached out to tap her hand. She looked down. "I know a lot of classified stuff," he said. "Secrets. Things I'm not allowed to talk about."

Anise nodded. "Very well, I can assure you that I would not ask you about anything that isn't directly related to this incident."

Jonny shrugged apologetically. "I can't be sure of that," he said. "And I don't even have permission to discuss this incident with you."

"What?" Anise asked incredulously.

"Most of what my family does winds up classified," Jonny said looking mildly embarrassed. "I have rules. It's nothing personal . . ."

"It's true," General Hammond said, coming into the room. "I will be sitting in on this testing session. Jonny, you have permission to discuss this specific incident with Anise. Nothing more."

"Oops," Jonny said, looking embarrassed.

"Oops?" asked General Hammond. "What do you mean?"

"I was talking about Questworld." General Hammond looked blank. "It's a virtual reality program."

"Don't worry, Jonny, everything you said about it is already water cooler gossip at most university computer programs."

"Not the stuff about the failsafe," he said, grimacing. "Damn it, I was just thinking it might . . . help."

"Help what?"

"We were talking about how to cure a zatarc," Sam said. "It sounds as if VR might provide a viable alternative treatment."

"Really?"

"Perhaps," said Anise, "but we can discuss it later. Right now we should test Jonny to make sure that he is not a zatarc."

"I still don't know if I trust your test, though," Jonny said and Anise turned a startled gaze on him. "I suspect that you're successful in locating real ones, but I have a feeling you've been lucky to avoid more false positives than you've had. All it takes is one forgotten five minute span and –" He shrugged. "Say I sneezed really hard, and then didn't think about it when I was answering your questions. Couldn't your machine detect that as signs of brainwashing? It doesn't detect the actual memory, it just detects that there's something that hasn't been revealed."

"That will only be a problem in this case if we come up with a positive result," Anise said. Her patience with Jonny seemed to have expired, but given her intellectual arrogance, Daniel didn't find that altogether surprising. "We will deal with that if it arises. Will that satisfy you?"

"I guess," Jonny said. "But there's surely got to be a better way. I mean, aren't there differences in brain chemistry? Or maybe a difference in the way the neural pathways connect?"

"Brain chemistry does not change. If it did, we would be able to detect it easily."

"No, that makes sense," Jonny said, eyes distant with thought, barely seeming to register Anise except as a source of verbal information. The Tok'ra was blinking at his offhand confirmation of her statement. Daniel looked up at Jack who was staring at the kid in something akin to astonishment. Jonny continued thoughtfully. "Even a chemical reaction would take too long. I mean, didn't you say that it could be done in mere moments?" Anise nodded, then murmured assent, and Daniel was startled to see that her jaw had gone slack. "But a mechanical alteration in neural pathways could do the trick, and that should be readily detectable, assuming that there's some way to map neural pathways." He looked up at Sam and Anise who were standing side by side staring at him. "Have you got any way to do that?"

"No," said Janet immediately.

"Yes," said Anise at the same moment.

"What?" Janet exclaimed, but Anise ignored her.

"Then you should be able to recognize it," Jonny said earnestly. "Pathways introduced by some external mechanical source should be very distinctive. A neat little package, in fact, that should stand out like a sore thumb from all the spider web shapes of normal neural pathways."

Anise nodded, her eyes wide. "But I do not have, at this time, anything set up for that, and we must test you by some means. Will you consent to this test? If it comes up negative, there is no further worry, but if it comes up positive, we will look further into this idea of yours and use it instead."

Jonny shrugged. "Sure. Though, actually, as a minor, I'm not sure I can consent. You may need Race's permission."

"Emergency circumstances, son," said General Hammond, smiling sympathetically.

Jonny sighed. "I know, but I thought it was worth a try."

They got Jonny onto his feet and he crutched along the halls beside General Hammond. Daniel walked behind them with Jack and Sam. "Well, Sam, it's official, your book has been read by someone not involved in the publishing of it," he said.

Sam shot him a glare. "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

Daniel nodded towards Jonny. "His tutor had him read it, he said. He got a B."

"He got a B?" Jack demanded.

"Which means, I assume, that he understood at least eighty percent of what she had to say," Daniel said.

"Well, that's a good sixty percent on me," Jack said.

"Do you believe that she explained that all to him?" Sam asked, ignoring their byplay. "Without argument, without telling him he didn't need to worry about it? What's up with that?"

"He's a kid," Daniel suggested. "Maybe that's it. We've never seen them around kids much."

"So do we need to start bringing kids in to ask her questions when we need her to do something?" asked Jack sarcastically.

"They'd have to be kids who'd know what questions to ask, Jack," Sam said. "I don't think she'd have been as patient with someone who didn't have at least a basic understanding of what she was saying."

zzz

The test took hours, because there was so much time to cover. Jack hadn't been present for Sam's and his own had seemed to pass fairly quickly, but the time it had covered was considerably shorter. Dr. Fraiser insisted that they take breaks for Jonny's sake, which just dragged it out longer, but in the end it became clear that Jonny was not a zatarc, but that he did have numerous ways of entertaining himself when left alone for three days.

Apparently he had memorized most of the symbols on the columns, and Daniel was nearly giddy with the opportunity that presented. He also spent a fair amount of time doing calisthenics and had cobbled together a chessboard out of random items from the room and played games against himself.

They were all relieved when Anise shut her machine off and declared that Jonny was clear of external influence. Janet claimed Jonny at once, taking him straight back to the infirmary to check him over and get him back into bed. Anise turned to the rest of them once Jonny had gone. "That means that the other boy, his brother, must have successfully fought against the Goa'uld that attempted to take him over, at least for a time. Unfortunately, if that is the case, the other Goa'uld will take steps. We may not be able to rescue Hadji for the simple reason that he may no longer be alive."

Daniel and Sam looked stricken, but Jack just nodded. "I wondered if that might not be the case," said General Hammond. "Allowing Jonny to escape may have put the nail in his coffin."

"It is not guaranteed," Anise said. "I must return home. Please let me know if the boy's family are found and if they are well."

"Believe me, you folks will be the first to know, because we'll be needing extraction services," Hammond said.

"Of course," Anise said, nodding. They watched as she began to disassemble her apparatus. She turned and smiled. "Dr. Jackson, would you mind giving me some help with this?" she asked.

Daniel opened his mouth, his eyes going wide like a deer in the headlights.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem, Anise," said General Hammond.

Jack tilted his head at the general. Daniel closed his mouth and then nodded. "No, no problem at all," he said, shooting Jack a helpless look.

"Well, I guess I'd better get back to surrogate parenting," Jack said, shrugging at his friend. "See you later." Now Daniel's look was resigned and Jack walked out with Sam at his side.

"You know, you never actually introduced me to Jonny," she said. "We all got a little distracted with the testing."

Jack nodded. "You're right," he said. "Let's remedy that." They walked towards the infirmary quietly for a moment, then he said, "He's a good kid."

"I'm sure he is," Sam said, sounding a little confused.

Shrugging, Jack said, "He doesn't deserve this."

"Does anyone?" Jack just shook his head. He didn't have an answer.

They turned into the infirmary and saw Jonny being helped onto the bed by Janet. He winced as the doctor positioned his foot carefully. "Are you sure it's broken?" Jonny asked.

Janet gave him a grin and said, "Yes, Jonny. We'll put a cast on it in the morning. The swelling should have gone down enough by then, but you need to stay pretty still in the meantime. You've gotten up and about as much as I'm allowing until tomorrow."

Jack walked over and stood beside the bed, crossing his arms. "Jonny, I'd like you to meet another member of my team. You already know Dr. Jackson. This is Major Samantha Carter."

Jonny's gaze sought Sam's face and he smiled. "Wow." Jack bit his lips to conceal his reaction as the boy's eyes started to shine.

"Wow?" Sam repeated.

"You wrote that book," he said. "About wormholes."

"I did," Sam replied, smiling. "Daniel said you'd read it."

Jonny nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Dad assigned it. But . . ." He glanced towards the rest of the facility. "This explains how you know so much, and why Dad said we should take your theories completely seriously." He leaned forward excitedly. "How much of that is theoretical? I mean, you presented the whole thing as an advanced theory without proof, but how much has been empirically tested?"

"That's hard for me to say, Jonny," Sam said, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. "See, I don't know how much I have permission to tell you."

The boy opened his mouth and then let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders slumping. From any other kid Jack might have expected wheedling but Jonny just looked resigned. "Can you just answer one question?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see. What's the question?"

"Have you actually proven that matter can only travel in one direction through a wormhole?"

Sam grinned. "Yes, that we have," she said.

"Cool!" Jonny sat back against the raised mattress, grinning. "Hadji will be . . ." The minute he spoke his brother's name, however, his face fell.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed. "We're going to do everything we can to get him back," he said.

Jonny nodded. "I know. But what are they doing to him – making him do – in the meantime?" Jack reached out and squeezed his hand. "I just hate being on the waiting end of things."

"I know how that feels," Jack said. "We do that all the time around here."

Jonny pursed her lips, shrugging. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?" he asked.

"No," Jack said. "No, it doesn't."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Just so everyone knows, despite the fact that Niko keeps pointing it out, I am actually intentionally leaving in P(string) and M(string) because I really just don't feel like inventing a new planet designation every time I send the characters somewhere new and risking duplicating one that's in the show already.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Jonny sat back and looked across the room at the wall. This was like most military facilities he'd had experience with. Not many military buildings were still being used for their original purposes, so there always seems to be a feeling of fitting things into a space that's just slightly the wrong shape. He wondered what this structure was originally used for.

He was aware that Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill were staring at him, waiting for him to react, but there wasn't much to be said. Hadji was somewhere with a monster in him, and so was his father. Race didn't have any idea what was going on, so he was bound to be really worried and upset. And there was nothing Jonny could do. Even if the military would let him try to help, which they wouldn't, his ankle was broken, effectively immobilizing him.

"Jonny, we do –" started Major Carter, but Jonny had started speaking at the same time and she broke off.

"Is there a cure?" Jonny asked. They exchanged an uneasy glance, and he said, "Bob said you wouldn't kill my dad, so there has to be some kind of way back for him."

"The Tok'ra have a means to remove the symbiote from the host," Major Carter said.

"Does that leave the host's mind intact?" Jonny asked worriedly. "I mean, if it's that intense a merging . . . does the host come out sane afterwards?"

"That's a very good question, and one I have an answer for," said Colonel O'Neill. Jonny noticed that Major Carter looked a little worried, but he focused his attention on O'Neill. "I have a very good friend, Skaara, who was taken over, and in fact had a Goa'uld in his head for several years. Without going into detail, I can tell you that the snake was removed and Skaara is back to his old self again."

"That's great!" Jonny said, a brief sense of elation filling him. Then he deflated. If it took years to get them back . . .

Dr. Fraiser came over with a tray. "Sam, colonel, you want me to send for some food for you?" she asked.

"Naw," said Major Carter. "I'll just go grab a couple of trays from the commissary. You trust me, don't you colonel?" Jonny thought she looked distinctly mischievous as she backed towards the exit.

"Carter?" Colonel O'Neill's voice was a mix between entreaty and alarm. The major gave Jonny a wink and then left.

"What, Jack?" asked Dr. Fraiser. "Are you afraid she might bring you something healthy?" Jonny had to control a laugh at the outraged expression on O'Neill's face. "Now, Jonny," the doctor went on, "I want you to eat up and then take these."

Jonny looked at the little cup and grimaced. "There's nothing there that will make me sleep, is there?" he asked.

She smiled down at him. "Nope, kiddo. Just pain pills."

Jonny nodded thankfully, then shrugged, hoping no one had noticed his relief. "Food first?"

"Food first," Dr. Fraiser said, her eyes crinkling.

Glancing over at Colonel O'Neill, Jonny wasn't sure he should start eating yet since he didn't have food.

"Hey, don't wait for me," O'Neill said, waving his hands.

Jonny's stomach was finally sitting up and taking notice. He nodded and dug into the food in front of him.

"So, you still play ball?"

"When I get the chance," Jonny said. "There was a great company game a couple of months ago, but it's really hard to join leagues when I might be heading off to Uruguay or Tangiers any minute." He grinned. "On the other hand, people play ball all over the world, and that's kind of cool, too."

"Uruguay or Tangiers, huh?" Colonel O'Neill said, raising his eyebrows. "You folks sure go all over, don't you?"

"Not like you," Jonny said. Major Carter returned and the conversation shifted to food. Jonny was relieved. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about much of anything else.

When they'd all finished, Jonny let out a huge yawn, only about half fake. Both Carter and O'Neill seemed to take the hint. Carter said good night and the colonel sloped off towards the lit doorway that led to the doctor's office. There was an orderly nearby, and Jonny looked over. His name tag said Perkins. "I don't suppose you could find me a book?" Jonny asked.

"What would you like to read?" Perkins asked.

Jonny shrugged. "Anything, I guess."

"I'll be back in a minute or two," Perkins said. Jonny leaned back against the pillow trying not to think too much. Colonel O'Neill had said, "the snake was removed." Was that just a figure of speech? Some people used the word 'snake' to refer to people they didn't trust. Or was it literal?

Perkins came back with a paperback. "This is all I could find that wasn't a medical reference," he said. He held out a battered copy of _Jurassic Park._ Jonny took it and smiled his thanks and opened it up, sighing. His dad said this book was pointless in terms of hard science, but a very useful study in the philosophy of research. Hence the copy at Jonny's house had remained on the shelf downstairs, unread.

* * *

Daniel fitted another piece of the device into place. The case was filled with a substance that seemed rather like dry gel. As it had with all the other pieces, it seemed to well up around the component, cocooning it completely, yet with no moisture. "This is interesting," he said. "What is it?" 

"Difficult to explain," Anise said carefully wrapping the scanners up and stowing them in another case. "It is shock resistant and places no pressure on the delicate components of the machine."

Daniel nodded, pursing his lips. Evidently her earlier willingness to explain things had been a freak occurrence, not destined to happen again anytime soon. "Well, that's good," he said. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

They were silent for a moment and Daniel wondered just what she wanted. She had been very specific in her request for his help, but she wasn't saying much. "So, Dr. Jackson, how does your research progress?"

He looked up, startled by the question, and said, "It goes . . . well, I suppose. I'm working on translating something that appears to be descended from ancient Sumerian writing, which is proving to be both challenging and intriguing."

"I am glad to hear it," she said. "My own work has been put on hold for a time recently, due to other needed research, but I hope to be able to get back to it soon." Daniel nodded as she paused. This was an altogether unexpected conversation. "I do believe that your guest may have provided an excellent new direction in my continuing research into the problem of zatarcs."

"That's good," Daniel said. "I hope it opens a whole new line of enquiry." _One that doesn't lead to the zatarc blowing his head off._ "So, have you seen Jacob lately?" he asked.

"Not recently, no, though I expect to soon."

"Hey, then, maybe you should see if Sam has any message she'd like to send."

Anise smiled unexpectedly. "She always has a letter ready when one of us comes. It is unusual among the Tok'ra for a member of the host's immediate family to remain in such close contact, but very pleasing."

Daniel carefully placed the last of the pieces that had been entrusted to him into the case. "I think that's it," he said, standing up and turning. Anise had already closed the case she'd been filling. "Do you need help getting this to the Stargate?"

"I would appreciate that," she said. "Tovak will be meeting me there," she said. "He has been meeting with some of your engineers, I believe."

Daniel lifted the case he'd packed and walked alongside her towards the gateroom. "Really? I didn't know you had any interest in our technology."

"I don't," she said simply, and Daniel grimaced. He'd walked right into that. English pronouns could be very imprecise. "Though I may be in error to discount your science completely," she went on. "This virtual reality sounds like it has some potential."

"I know almost nothing about it," Daniel said. "Certainly nothing about Dr. Quest's device."

"Do you know what it is, though, a general definition?"

Daniel shrugged. "I think it's a completely computer created environment that is somehow hooked to the mind to allow . . ." He grimaced again. "I don't have any clue how it works beyond what I've seen in a few B-grade movies and TV shows. I'm probably not the right person to ask."

"Well, then, perhaps I shall return soon and see if permission cannot be granted for Jonny to discuss it with me."

"Oh, I see," Daniel said, rolling his lips in over his teeth. "If it's just a definition you want, I'm sure Sam would be more than up to that."

"I would settle for that, but more information would be needed if it were to be developed into a treatment for any zatarcs we might find." Tilting his head noncommittally, Daniel pulled out his badge and opened the door to the gateroom. She put her hand on his arm before the entered, and he turned back, hoping the surprise on his face could be read as polite inquiry. "Perhaps when I return, we could share a meal."

Daniel felt his eyes widen. "Um . . . sure," he said.

She smiled. "I look forward to it." With that they entered the gateroom and Daniel handed off his burden to Tovak. General Hammond had accompanied the other Tok'ra and was talking with him. Anise put her case down and turned to face Daniel as the gate surged open. "Farewell, Dr. Jackson," she said, and then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Bending, she lifted her case and left without looking back.

General Hammond walked over to stand beside Daniel, who gave him a look out of the side of his eyes. "Sir, I have a question."

"Yes, Dr. Jackson?"

"Just how far do we have to go in our efforts to be . . . diplomatic . . . toward the Tok'ra."

Hammond's eyebrows raised. "Not that far, Dr. Jackson," he said, sounding vaguely amused. "Just be polite."

"Maybe we could arrange for me to have leave during her next visit."

"We'll see," Hammond said. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

Taking the hint, Daniel left the gateroom, heading back towards the infirmary, avoiding the curious eyes of the soldiers who had witnessed that leave-taking. _Oh, goody, gossip._

* * *

Jack walked into Janet's office and leaned against the wall by the door so that Jonny was still in his line of sight. "So, what was that little signal all about?" he asked. Just after she had given Jonny the tray she had given him the high sign and looked towards her office. 

"I wanted to talk to you privately," Janet said. "I understand that General Hammond has asked that you and Daniel take charge of Jonny." Jack nodded. "Well, then I've got some advice for you. One of you needs to stay the night here."

Jack glanced over at the boy in the bed who was looking at a paperback book with some disfavor. "I was planning on it."

"Good," Janet said.

"Why are you so urgent?" Jack asked. "Apart from the obvious being alone in a strange place after being held prisoner . . . alone in a strange place?"

Janet's lips twitched humorlessly. "He's prone to nightmares," she said. Jack's brows drew together and she raised a hand. "Don't say any of the obvious things. These aren't your standard kid-type nightmares." She sat in her chair and looked down at an open file on her desk. "I sent for copies of his medical records, and, though it doesn't go into details about the causes, there are a lot of references to severe night terrors that started about three years ago. He still has them sometimes, and they seem to be triggered by stress."

"Hence the no drugs that make him sleep?" Jack asked.

"Yes. And given his recent experiences . . ." She trailed off and Jack nodded. "I hesitate to think what his nights may have been like on that ship once he was alone."

"So we should be prepared. Is it like PTSD?"

She rolled her shoulders wearily. "Colonel, it probably is PTSD." She shook her head, looking at the file. "This is all just medical details with as little as feasibly possible included about the causes of injuries and the like, and there's no official diagnosis, but I wouldn't necessarily expect that at his age."

Jack looked back over and saw that Jonny now appeared somewhat more interested in the book he held. "So I'd better let Daniel know."

"Right," she replied. "You can sleep in the bed next to his, and tomorrow we'll probably move him into one of the VIP suites."

"Thanks, Janet," Jack said. "Are you going home?"

"Yes. I already filled Dr. Jennings in on the situation. He'll leave you alone unless you need him." She closed the file and put it into a drawer of her desk, then locked it. "See you in the morning." Jack watched as she walked over to Jonny. "Don't stay up reading too long."

"I won't," he said. "Good night."

After Janet left, Jack wandered over and sat down on the next bed. The orderly, Sergeant Perkins, was at his desk in the corner, and Dr. Jennings walked in and, nodding briefly to Jack, went back to the office.

"You should probably be heading home," Jonny said, giving him a guileless grin.

"Nah," Jack said. "I thought I'd bunk here tonight."

The boy looked at him silently for a moment, then his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't need to be babysat," he said.

"No, I'm sure you don't," Jack said equably. "But it's a long drive and I'd just as soon stay here," he added, shrugging.

"There are people here," Jonny said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "I wouldn't be alone."

Jack grinned down at the mutinous look on the boy's face. "Well, then, you'll be slightly less alone." He kicked off his shoes and hopped up on the bed, rummaging in the bedside drawer for the remote to the television. "Besides, it's almost time for _The Simpsons._"

Clearly still annoyed, but just as clearly out of arguments that fell short of rudeness, Jonny sat back on his own bed and looked down at the book.

* * *

Daniel walked into the infirmary to find Jack, shoes kicked off, watching _The Simpsons_ from the bed next to Jonny's. The boy seemed to be splitting his attention between a book and the TV. Daniel sat down in the chair next to Jonny's bed. 

"You know," Jonny said quietly. "Neither of you has to stay. I'm not five. I can manage."

Daniel gave Jonny a sympathetic smile. "You'd never have guessed that the Air Force was so full of mother hens, would you?" he said, and Jonny sighed. "Actually, I just wanted to talk to Jack, but it's impossible to get anything of real value out of him till _The Simpsons_ is over."

"Hey, Daniel," Jack hissed. "Shush!" Rolling his eyes, Daniel fell silent and watched the show with them. Jonny seemed very sleepy, but he resisted falling asleep. Giving up on the book, he focused on the show, but by the time the theme song had started, Jonny was fast asleep.

Jack eased off the bed and beckoned Daniel to follow him across the room. Before Jack could launch into an explanation, Daniel said, "Janet caught me on her way out. Do I take it you've volunteered for the night?"

The colonel shrugged. "Sure."

"I figured I'd go pick up some clothes. It sounds like at least one of us is going to stay here every night for awhile. You want me to swing by your place and grab anything?"

"I'll get it tomorrow," Jack said.

Nodding, Daniel glanced at the peacefully sleeping boy. "Do you think there's anything I should get for him? No one said anything about getting his stuff from home."

"I don't know," Jack said.

"I'll stop by Hammond's office. Maybe his aide will know what's going on."

"Good idea."

* * *

Jessie stood uneasily in the doorway holding Bandit's carrier, watching her father. It hadn't been used for three years, and she was frankly surprised that Jonny hadn't destroyed the thing. But it had simply been tucked away on the top shelf in the storeroom along with other items that saw little to no use. 

At the moment, Bandit was running excitedly around Race's feet as he walked around Jonny's room, jerking drawers open and pulling out their contents. It was alarming. Normally, in even the most extreme situations, Jessie's dad was calm, easy-going, full of wit and banter. She'd never seen him this angry.

She and her father been trying yet again to hone in on the signal from the GPS systems in their watches when he'd gotten the call. He'd taken it into the next room, and at first she'd been so focused on what she was doing that she hadn't paid any attention to what he was saying. Then he'd slammed the door behind himself and started yelling, and though she listened, she couldn't hear much of what he'd said.

When he'd come out again, he'd been absolutely seething with rage. He'd told her that Jonny was safe, but that he didn't know where he was, and that Benton and Hadji were still missing. And after that he'd gone silent. She asked him once what had happened and all he did was shake his head.

"I don't know, Jess. They wouldn't tell me anything." She'd made them dinner, and he'd sat, utterly still, for the longest time she'd ever seen him do so. He ate the food she put in front of him, but didn't say anything.

Then another call had come in. Her father had been icily polite to whoever it was, and, once again, had taken the call out of the room. Before leaving, he'd asked her not to follow him, so she'd waited impatiently, pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other. Part of her knew that she should be cleaning up the mess she'd made while cooking, but she couldn't settle to anything.

What did it mean? Why weren't they telling her father anything?

When he came back, his eyes were glittering with anger and he'd told her to find Bandit's carrier. She'd obeyed without question, though it had taken a bit of searching.

Now he was packing a duffel in Jonny's room, growling periodically. "It's out of my hands, Race." He shoved a handful of black t-shirts into the bag. "There's nothing I can do, Race." He walked across to the dresser and pulled a double handful of socks out of the top drawer. "I know how you feel, Race." Dropping the socks in the duffel, he clenched his fists. "Damn it, Phil, no you don't!"

"Dad?" she said softly. "Should I pack, too?"

He looked up, seeming only just to have noticed her standing there. The grim expression on his face evaporated as he gazed at her. "No, Ponchita," he said softly, holding out a hand towards her. She walked across and he looked down at her. "I'm not supposed to tell you anything beyond the fact that Jonny's safe. This is coming down from very high up."

"But what happened? Aren't we going to see him?"

A flash of bitterness crossed his face. "We're not going anywhere."

"But then . . ." She gestured at the duffel and the carrier. "What's this for?"

"I've been asked to send him some clothes, some familiar stuff, and they specifically requested Bandit."

"Have you talked to him?" Jessie asked desperately. "How is he?"

"No, I haven't." He pulled her into a tight hug. "Phil has, and that should be good enough for both of us."

"But –"

"But nothing, Ponchita." Race drew back and looked down into her eyes. "There's a helicopter coming and I need to have things ready for him. Go write a letter to him. I'll see if they'll take it."

She stared at him. "What do I say?"

"Just tell him . . . tell him what we've been doing."

Turning, Jessie caught a glimpse of the carrier in the doorway again. "You can't send Bandit to him in a carrier, Dad," she said.

"They may not take him any other way, Jess." He sank onto the bed. "I'm going to try to persuade them to take him on a leash, but most people aren't as comfortable with having a loose dog on a plane as we are." Jessie nodded. "Now go write your letter. I have to finish up here. If you can think of anything else he'd want to have . . ."

Jessie looked around the room and her eyes fell on the pictures on his dresser. "How soon is he coming back?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. She walked over and gathered up the ones Jonny took with him when they went on trips, but when she turned around Race was looking at her with pursed lips. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea."

"It's not the same as last time, Dad," she said. "We're sending him the ones of us, too. Maybe it will make it seem more like a normal trip to him. If Dr. Quest and Hadji aren't with him, he's got to be more than a little wigged out."

Nodding, he took them from her, stowing them in the duffel. "Get his deodorant and stuff from the bathroom, why don't you?" She went in and grabbed the bag of toiletries Jonny always kept ready in the cupboard under his sink, picking up his hairbrush and tucking it in.

Handing it off to her dad, she said, "Hang on a minute." Then she ran down the stairs and put together a care package, including plenty of Mrs. Evans' cookies and Jonny's favorite cheese snacks. She was just wrapping it up tightly when she heard IRIS announce the approach of a helicopter. "Air vehicle approaching."

Her father entered the kitchen with the duffel in one hand, Bandit tucked under his arm, and the portable radio in the other. "Permission granted, Lieutenant."

Remembering suddenly about the letter, Jessie grabbed a paper napkin and a pen from the counter and scribbled hastily, tucking the note into package with the food. Then she took off after her father into the night, towards the helipad.

When she got to the chopper, her father was talking to the pilot. "No, sir, I don't know anything but that I was instructed to come out here and pick up some packages. Does the dog have a carrier, sir?"

Race nodded and Jessie's heart sank. Bandit didn't like carriers, but it wasn't the dog she was worried about. Jonny had a powerful aversion to putting his dog in one after . . . Jessie shook her head. "Jess?" her father said, and she looked up. "Go get the carrier, will you?"

She ran up to the house and grabbed it, then ran back down to the helipad. When she got there, the pilot was weighing her care package in his hands. "I wish I had friends like you," he said, giving her a grin and she flushed in embarrassment.

"Did you write a letter?" her father asked.

"Just a note. I stuck it in there," she said, pointing.

"That reminds me. I'm supposed to give you this, sir." He handed across an envelope to Race who took it.

Jessie squatted by the carrier and got hold of Bandit. "Come on, boy," she said. Despite his wiggling and plaintive yips, she managed to get him into the carrier and shut the door in his disgusted face. Sealing the latch to keep him in, she placed his leash in one of the little compartments on the top. Standing up, she said, "Make sure he gets enough water."

"Yes, miss," the pilot said, and she detected the faintest hint of a patronizing tone. Torn between annoyance at the condescension and feeling like she deserved it for being so fussy, she stepped back from the carrier, crossing her arms. The pilot picked up the carrier and took it away into the chopper. Then he came back and said, "Thank you, folks."

Race put his arm around her shoulders, and Jessie realized that it was time to move away from the helicopter. _This is _so_ wrong!_ she thought mutinously, nevertheless obeying the gentle pressure her father was exerting. _What could have happened? Do they think Jonny did something wrong? Where are Hadji and Dr. Quest?_

A lump grew in her throat as the chopper took off and she buried her face in her father's side, muffling her tears.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The following chapter contains information that could be regarded as spoilers for my Jonny Quest story, Corporate Policy. This story is an AU projection of what could happen if that JQ universe crossed over with Stargate. There are also minor spoilers for the sequel to Corporate Policy, which has not yet been finished.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Jack was a light sleeper at the best of times. Years of special forces work had guaranteed that. When he knew there was something to stay alert for . . .

About 3 am, a sharp cry woke him. "Dad! No!" Jack was at the side of Jonny's bed instantly. The boy was sitting up, eyes wide open, but at the same time it was clear that he was still asleep. His eyes darted back and forth rapidly, indicating that he was still in REM sleep.

"Jonny?" Jack said. Sergeant Perkins had started to his feet at the cry. Jack waved him back to his seat. "Jonny, it's okay." He put his hands on Jonny's shoulders preparatory to giving him a light shake. Before he knew it he was on his butt on the floor and he wasn't altogether sure how he'd gotten there.

He heard footsteps, felt rather than saw the orderly and the doctor converge on the boy. A moment later there was a horrific clatter as one of them went flying and knocked over a tray of equipment. Jack looked up, shaking his head to see Dr. Jennings landing on the floor. _What the hell –_

When he got to his feet, he found Jonny standing beside the bed on the other side, eyes still open but wakeful now, clutching the side of the bed as he stood one-footed on the floor. The boy looked shocked and very out of it. "Jonny, are you awake?" Jack said.

The boy had just turned his head when, quite suddenly, the whole room echoed with the sound of the alarm klaxon. Five airmen came running into the infirmary, guns leveled as they searched for the source of the threat. Jonny's eyes widened in terror. Scrabbling backwards he slammed his back against the wall and slid down out of sight.

Jack turned his head, raising an arm. "Out, all of you. Get out!"

"But sir, there was –"

"Damn it, get out! Stand down! Stand down!"

The confused and worried airmen shuffled out and Jack ran around the bed to Jonny. The boy was huddled on the floor and crying. "It's okay, Jonny. Nothing's going to happen to you. It's okay." He tentatively put a hand on Jonny's shoulder, dimly aware of the movement of men around him. Jonny flinched slightly, but he didn't strike out. "It's okay. No one will hurt you." Jonny nodded, but he was still stiff and pale. Jack could see him trembling, and Jack pulled him into his arms. "It's okay."

There was a commotion all around them, but he heard the calm voice of General Hammond take charge and start dealing with things. When the others had quieted down a bit, Jack said, "Let's get you back on the bed, okay, Jonny?"

With the boy's shivery help, they managed it, though not without a couple of gasps from Jonny. Jack looked around and saw that Perkins, the orderly, was lying on another bed, sweating slightly and looking like he was in pain. Jennings sported the beginnings of a spectacular black eye and was talking irately to General Hammond in the office.

Jack got the blanket draped over Jonny again. He suspected that his ankle needed ice, but the kid was so shocky that he thought it was wiser to warm him up first. Daniel came into the infirmary at a run and Jack gestured him towards them with his head.

Looking around at the evidence of struggle, Daniel walked over. "What happened?"

"Jonny had a nightmare, and I tried to wake him up, but –" He broke off, but Daniel nodded. "Sit with him for me, would you?" Wordlessly, Daniel nodded again and sat down on the edge of the bed looking down at Jonny.

Jack walked back into the office. He opened the door quickly and slipped in, catching Jennings in mid-sentence. "– differently. Perkins has a broken rib."

Hammond looked up. "What happened, Colonel O'Neill?"

"Jonny had a nightmare, general, and – it was my fault. I grabbed him to wake him up."

"Did you know he had combat training, colonel?" asked Dr. Jennings. Jack shook his head. "See, that's what I mean. How can we be expected to treat the boy properly if we don't know what to expect? That should damned well be in the records." He slammed his hand down on the file in front of him. "This is ludicrous! It says he has panic attacks but doesn't give any details about what the triggers are. Given his level of distress when he arrived here –" Jennings broke off. "I understand the need for secrecy in government programs, sir, but this is going too far."

"Calm yourself, Dr. Jennings, I agree with you." Hammond shook his head. "I have a phone call to make, but first I want to know exactly what happened."

Jack shrugged. "He sat up yelling 'dad, no' or something like that, but he was still asleep. I grabbed him, he knocked me down, Jennings and Perkins tried to grab him, and he knocked them down." Jack made a face. "I didn't see exactly how."

"This is a fifteen-year-old boy," Hammond said. "Are you telling me that you couldn't restrain one young boy?"

"No, general, I'm not saying that," Jack said irritably. "I'm saying that I made a mistake. I didn't take possible self-defense training into account when I tried to wake him up. So Perkins went flying into something and knocked it over and Jennings hit the floor. Then the alarm went off and guards showed up with their guns, all pointing at the kid, and he just crumpled to the floor. Not sure what happened in his head, but he just went down."

"And you got the guards out of here and took care of Jonny," Hammond finished, on sure ground now. "How is he now?"

"I don't know exactly," Jack said, glancing out the window into the room. Daniel appeared to be talking to Jonny, but he couldn't see Jonny's face clearly. "He hadn't said anything yet when I left him with Daniel."

Before they could say anything further, Janet walked into the infirmary, looking like an avenging angel. She made straight for Jonny's side. She hovered over him maternally for a few moments and then walked over to Perkins.

"Well, colonel, as soon as you have a better assessment of young Mr. Quest's state of mind, you come to my office and let me know."

"Yes, sir, general," Jack said. He stood back to let the general leave, then followed him out.

"Dr. Fraiser, I'll expect a report."

"Of course, general," she said, probing Sergeant Perkins' ribs. Jack winced at Perkins' gasp of pain. She darted a glance his way after Hammond had left and said, "Are you hurt at all, Colonel O'Neill?"

The tone of her voice and glint in her eyes made him very nervous. He knew just who Janet blamed for this little mess, and she was right. He raised his hands and said, "No, ma'am. Nothing I can't handle."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'll see you later then." He nodded warily. _Janet says more with her tones than most people can, I swear._

Heading over to the bed, he found Daniel in the midst of a dissertation about his trip to Wal-Mart and the cultures that could be found in a suburban shopping center. Jonny had a little half smile on his face, but when Jack appeared, he sobered. "I'm sorry," he said.

"S'okay. It was my fault. I should have been less aggressive."

Jonny looked over at Perkins who was now easing off the bed with a very set expression on his lips. The boy's eyes clouded. "How badly did I hurt him?"

"Dr. Jennings said you broke one of his ribs."

"And the doctor?" Jonny asked. "That black eye?" Jack nodded. "And you?"

"I'm fine. I know how to take a hit," Jack said. In point of fact, he was feeling rather bruised on the ribs and the hip. He thought Jonny had lashed out with one arm and a foot to get him off, very effectively, too.

"I'm sorry," Jonny said again. "I haven't reacted like that in a . . . in a long time."

"Bad dream?"

The boy's eyes went distant. "You could say that." His lips tightened. "Race used to be a Navy Seal," he said. "He's been training me in self-defense since I was seven." Jack let out a whistle. "The last time I had an episode like that was two years ago and I was a lot smaller then."

"Well, like I said, it's not your fault. I messed up."

Jonny didn't respond, just looked down, very pale and distressed. Daniel shot Jack a worried look, then made a foray of his own. "Do you remember the dream?" The boy shook his head most unconvincingly. "Was it about being captured?"

Jonny shuddered but didn't respond. Instead he looked over at Dr. Jennings who had an ice pack applied to his eye. "I guess I'm going to be popular around here," he said despondently. "Hey, he's not a zatarc, but he's a complete fruitloop."

"Oh, come on," Jack said. "You don't know half the things we've done to our own people. A little nightmare looks like nothing compared to that."

Jonny looked up at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Daniel shrugged. "Well, I tried to shoot Jack once," he said casually.

"You did?"

"Admittedly, I was under the influence of some nasty alien technology at the time, but –"

"He did try to shoot me," Jack finished for him, grinning easily at Jonny's astonished expression. "But it wasn't entirely his fault. He was addicted to something that was close to ten times as addictive as heroin."

"Withdrawals?"

The shutters closed down over Daniel's face. Jack struck a jaunty pose to distract attention from him. "Yeah," he said nonchalantly. "It was pretty bad."

"I'm sorry," Jonny said, glancing at Daniel.

"It's been awhile," Daniel said, shrugging.

Jonny sighed, sinking back deeper into the pillows. "My dad has never hit me," he said. "No spankings, nothing. He doesn't believe in it." Jack nodded but kept his mouth shut. After a moment, Jonny went on. "I dreamed that my dad was beating me up. It was . . . he took the place of someone who did that to me once, awhile ago, in my dream."

Jack felt his face go blank. "Someone beat you up?" he asked. "When was this?"

Jonny shrugged. "A few years ago. It hit all the news, even made the tabloids." He turned on his side. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Daniel said.

"Sure," Jack said.

"Oh." The boy turned enough that he could look Jack in the face. "I've never had two episodes like that in one night, but it would probably be safer for you just to call my name or jiggle my foot."

"Your foot?"

"That's how Hadji used to wake me when I had nightmares," Jonny said. "After the time I threw him across the room, he said he liked all his teeth where they were." What had obviously originally been said in jest fell flat under the circumstances. Jonny grimaced.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind," Jack said. "Now, you go to sleep, young man. You haven't slept nearly long enough."

"I thought you said it was Dr. Fraiser who was maternal," Jonny said. Then, between one breath and the next, he dropped off. As soon as he was clearly asleep, Janet walked over and took Jack by the arm.

"Over here, Colonel O'Neill," she said firmly. Jennings was making his way out the door, and Perkins seemed to be resting comfortably now. "Take your shirt off."

"I'm fine, doc."

"Of course you are, colonel," she replied, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

Irritated, he stripped off his shirt. There was, in fact, a nice-sized bruise coming in on his ribs. In the next bed, Perkins whistled and then said, "That kid can kick like a mule."

Jack snorted, then winced as Janet gently probed the injury. "No, he can kick like a Navy Seal. Apparently his bodyguard's been training him since he was seven."

Perkins' eyebrows raised. "Well, maybe I don't feel quite so useless," he said.

"Colonel, did he hit you anywhere else?"

"No, not really." Jack paused and sighed. "Well, yeah, kinda." He showed her the bruise on his hip, rolling his eyes as she prodded it experimentally. "Nothing to worry about, doc. Nothing broken."

"If you still have pain later, you'll want to ice it." He exchanged a covert look with Perkins, but at least he knew he would be escaping from Fraiser's immediate vicinity relatively soon.

Refastening his pants, he pulled his shirt back on. "Sure."

"Jack?" Daniel's voice was quiet, but it carried across to where they were standing. The anthropologist had rolled one of the computer carts to a spot alongside Jonny's bed, so that he was in easy reach of the boy. "Come here."

Jack walked over and after a moment Dr. Fraiser followed. Daniel pointed mutely to an article on the screen. It was an archive news story from one of the more respectable tabloids, and was dated three years ago. There was a lurid photograph of three kids on a beach. Jack grimaced sourly. It was one of those grainy shots that had been taken from a great distance out to sea, clearly without the subjects' knowledge or permission. The kids were a dark skinned boy with black hair, Hadji, a redheaded girl Jack had not met, and a blond boy who must be Jonny.

Both Jonny and the other boy were wearing shorts but no shirts, and Jonny's chest was wrapped in much the same way Perkins' now was. There was a cast on his left arm, and his face, of which a detailed close up had been thoughtfully provided, was badly bruised and contused. Details were hard to make out past the colors of bruising. The caption read, "Multi-billion dollar Quest heir Jonny plays on the sand with friends after week-long ordeal."

"He and his father were apparently kidnapped by forces unknown and held for a week three years ago," Daniel said, a sick expression on his face.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack said, staring at the photo, wondering if it had been spiced up at all, nauseated by the kind of mind that got off on doing that to a kid. It was unbelievably crass and morbid to publish the damned thing at all.

"Didn't you hear about that?" Dr. Fraiser asked. "It was all over the news for about three weeks, then the coverage died down."

"We were off world," Daniel said, pointing to the dates.

"Right," Fraiser said, nodding. "Well, two months later, Jonny was kidnapped alone, but I don't think that lasted more than twelve hours, and no injuries were ever reported in the media."

"Hell," Jack muttered.

"I would guess that he was dreaming about something that happened during this incident," Daniel said, looking at the screen. "It's no wonder he lashed out if he felt restrained."

"No," Dr. Fraiser said. "Now, I've got reports to write up. Don't wake him – that's all I ask."

Jack watched Daniel sort through the news reports for awhile, then he yawned. "I'm going to bed," he said. Daniel nodded absently and Jack lay down again.

* * *

A dark-skinned boy dressed as befit an ancient prince sat on the floor of a large airy chamber. His legs were crossed, hands resting lightly on his thighs, and his eyes were closed. He seemed very much at peace in his meditation. 

Within, however, a battle rampaged.

Hadji sat still in the center of his mind while the intruder raged around him. Cutting through the ravings about how he should make proper submission to his god, Hadji said, "I am the master of this body. It is mine by birth."

"_It is mine by right of conquest!" _screamed the intruder. _"I am your god! You must submit to me. You _will _submit to me."_

"_I do not think so," _Hadji replied calmly. _"This is my body. I will not cede it to you."_

"_You are nothing more than a host, slave!" _growled the creature. _"This body is mine, now, and you will not fight me for it."_

Hadji was silent, refraining from pointing out that their discussion alone belied that notion. It was not entirely accurate to say that he was the master of his body at this time. The creature that had invaded him had successfully seized control several times, pushing Hadji out of the way and making him a helpless passenger in his own body. He, this alien being, had done this before to an unsuspecting innocent, but he had not been prepared to take on a man who was already in full mastery of his mind and body. Very few could or had achieved such mastery.

The door to the chamber opened and a man strode in, clad in regal robes, cloaked in arrogance. Hadji noted abstractly that his garments were Grecian in inspiration, but his focus was on the man's face. Hadji saw his father, prisoner of the malevolent presence that controlled his actions. The invader within Hadji saw his mighty master Thoth and shoved mentally.

Thrown off balance by the sight of his father, and altogether uncertain about what response he should show, Hadji didn't fight back for the moment, and the invader took control, rising to his feet. He bowed to his master. "I await your command, my lord."

"I have no commands as yet, young one," said Thoth. Hadji was deeply disturbed by the notion that the creature in his father's mind was masquerading as the ancient Egyptian god of knowledge. "What have you been doing, Klorel?"

"Absorbing the mind of the one I have taken, my lord." Hadji would have bit his lip, fidgeted, something, if he'd had control of his body. Now came the moment when his captor would reveal that he was being troublesome. To his surprise, he felt his throat shift as Klorel gulped nervously. "He is more complex than the other."

"He is older, I believe," said Thoth.

"And more educated," Klorel replied. "He has much knowledge, it will take time to fully grasp it all."

Thoth threw back his head and laughed. It was a sound so unlike Dr. Quest's laugh that Hadji felt his heart contract. "I do understand that. This mind stores a vast wealth of knowledge that I believe will come in useful towards defeating the Tau'ri. That is why I selected him." He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at Klorel. "Do you know why I have given you the honor of serving me?"

"No, my lord. I am most grateful, but I do not know why."

"I have been watching the petty squabbles and pitiful dramas that my brethren have engaged in for millennia without taking action or choosing a side. But their inability to defeat the Tau'ri concerns me greatly. It is time that the population of that planet was taken in hand. As many as are deemed suitable for service as hosts should be taken, and the rest of the populace laid waste. They are too troublesome. Their transplanted kindred are much easier to manage."

"But they do not stay on their home planet now, they roam among the stars."

"They do. But you, Klorel, you have in your mind the memories of a boy that knew two of the leaders of their struggle quite well. And now you are in the body of a boy who understands the current technology of the Tau'ri even better."

"Nothing of the host survives!" Klorel protested, and Hadji let out a burst of contemptuous amusement at the thought.

Thoth grabbed the front of Klorel's garments in a tight grip and twisted, pulling the slighter, younger man towards him. "Naught but shortsighted fools believe that. The host's mind is a resource. Do not parrot the lies Apophis taught you."

Hadji felt Klorel's sick fear in the pit of his stomach. "No, my lord!" Thoth dropped his hands and Klorel fell to his knees.

Thoth walked a few feet away. "Return to your meditation. Absorb the knowledge your host brings to you. Accept it as the gift it is, and then bring it to me. Know this, it is only the knowledge of your hosts that commends you to me. Without that, you would now be a feast for the others."

"Yes, my lord."

As Thoth and his Jaffa left, Klorel shifted back into the cross-legged position he'd taken earlier, subtly influenced by Hadji. _"You are frightened," _Hadji said. There was no answer, but acid surged in the belly they shared. _"You have lost control of a host before, have you not?" _he asked, needling.

"_It was a machine!" _Klorel growled, and it seemed to Hadji that he couldn't stop himself. _"It was not the boy. He was not like you."_

"_What will Thoth do with you if he realizes that you do not have control of this body?" _Hadji asked curiously.

"_This is my body," _Klorel replied. _"You will weaken. You will tire and then the body will be mine."_

Hadji narrowed his eyes and was pleased to see that he had control of those muscles once more. _"I will not tire. I will not weaken. My body will never be yours."_ The only answer was a wordless growl. _"You still haven't answered my question. What will Thoth do to you?" _Klorel was silent. _"I think he will kill you, very soon."_

That got a response. _"If I die, you die," _Klorel muttered.

"_I do not think so," _Hadji said. _"It is clear from your mind that extraction is possible. Are you certain that Thoth does not know how to do this?" _There was no reply, but there was much uncertainty in the mind of his invader. Hadji smiled. _"I am of use to him. I believe he will kill you and find a new Goa'uld for me."_

"_That would not be good for you," _Klorel said. _"You do not seem upset by the notion."_

Hadji injected as much smugness as was possible into his mental voice. _"I will win," _he said. _"Or I will die. Unlike you, I do not fear death."_

Klorel made no reply, and Hadji fell to wondering just how he could get out of this mess, taking his father with him. He prayed that Jonny was home safe at least.

The voice in his mind spoke suddenly. _"You stole the coordinates of the Tau'ri homeworld from my mind, but I concealed one important fact from you." _Hadji's eyes widened as the facts came through to him. The creature in his mind began to laugh as ice took Hadji's blood. There was some kind of barrier across the stargate on Earth that wouldn't open without the proper codes. _Jonny – if Jonny went through the Stargate . . ._

"_If your brother went through the chappa'ai, then he is dead."_

* * *

Jonny woke up feeling very groggy and unrested. An ache had taken up permanent residence in his foot, and he had a desperate call of nature. He struggled to prop himself up on his elbows and saw the concrete-walled infirmary around him. _It wasn't a dream._ As he sat up, Dr. Fraiser bustled over to him. "Good morning, Jonny. How do you feel?" 

"I'm fine."

Her lips tightened and she turned to Dr. Jackson who was sitting by the bed. "Are you sure you only met him once?" The anthropologist shrugged helplessly, a befuddled expression his face. "Jonny, how does your foot feel?"

"It hurts, ma'am," Jonny said. "Um . . . Would you mind letting me up for a minute?"

Dr. Jackson stood up instantly and put the crutches in reach. The doctor looked concerned but she didn't suggest a bedpan for which Jonny found himself incredibly grateful. Getting to the bathroom and doing his business was neither easy nor painless, and Jonny was very relieved to get back into the bed.

Dr. Fraiser unwrapped his foot and took a look at it. "Not surprisingly, the swelling is up a bit. I iced it once or twice in the night through the bandage, but –" She shrugged. "I'm going to put some more ice on it, Jonny. Just sit still and someone will bring you some breakfast."

She moved away and Jonny looked over at the bed that Colonel O'Neill had taken. It was made up neat as a pin and O'Neill was gone. "Jack went to take a shower and change," Dr. Jackson said as if reading his mind.

"Oh," Jonny said. "Is there any news on my dad and Hadji?"

"Not yet," Dr. Jackson said, looking down at his hands. Jonny bit his lip.

"Good morning," Colonel O'Neill said, coming round the door. "How are you feeling today, Jonny?"

"You want the truth?" O'Neill nodded. "Rotten."

"Well, that's about what I expected," the colonel said. "But I've got something here that should cheer you up." He turned. "Come on in, Sam."

Major Carter came in and Jonny's eyes widened. She had a leash and – "Bandit!"

The little dog barked excitedly and ran up to the edge of the bed. It was far too high for him, and Jonny started to lean over to pick him up. Dr. Jackson bent and scooped Bandit off the ground and put him on the bed beside Jonny. Barely sparing a nod of thanks to the anthropologist, Jonny scratched Bandit enthusiastically. The dog wriggled all over, yipping happily.

* * *

Jack looked up to see Dr. Fraiser striding across the room looking like a thundercloud. He looked at Daniel in alarm. Daniel was staring at the doctor like a deer caught in the headlights. "What in the _hell_ is a _dog_ doing in my infirmary?" she demanded. 

"I thought you were going to talk to her," Daniel muttered.

"Me?" Jack hissed back. "I thought you were!"

Sam came to the rescue, though. "It's Jonny's dog, Janet," she said.

"Oh." Janet's incipient tirade stopped before it started, leaving her looking ready to explode with no outlet. With some apparent effort, she regained her usual calm manner. "Well, that's fine then," she said grudgingly.

"He's really well-behaved," Jonny assured her. "Unless there are squirrels. He doesn't like squirrels."

"We're pretty squirrel-free, down here," Daniel said, a smile twitching on his lips.

"And monkeys. He can be a little crazy when there are monkeys around."

"Only the space-monkey here," Jack said, pointing at Daniel who rolled his eyes. Jonny smiled, but then he caught sight of Perkins moving slowly towards the bathroom.

"I know that posture," he said, his eyes crinkling up in dismay. "Did I break his ribs?"

"Just one, and it's only cracked," Dr. Fraiser said.

"Oh, man, cracked ribs really hurt," Jonny said, looking very upset. "Someone cracked my ribs once, and it was the worst pain I've ever had."

"Someone –" Sam burst out, and Jonny looked up.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean – I forget sometimes how that sounds."

"Was that the guy we were talking about last night?" Jack asked. Jonny looked perplexed. "You know, the guy, in your dream, that your dad –"

"Oh, him!" Jonny shook his head. "No, it was just one of his flunkies. Crandall broke my arm."

"On purpose?" Sam asked.

Jonny looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I don't think he planned it, but he didn't much care."

"Who is this Crandall?" Daniel asked.

The boy looked up at the group of them. "Have you guys ever heard of the corporation?"

Jack looked over at Daniel who shrugged, and then at Sam who just shook her head. Dr. Fraiser, though, took a step closer to the bed and said, "Actually, I attended a briefing about it a few years back, just after I adopted Cassandra. I was under the impression that it was classified."

"Not for Dad and me," Jonny said, scratching his dog on the head. The dog was flopped on the bed, clearly in heaven.

"Classified is classified, young man," Dr. Fraiser said.

Jonny got a mulish look. "My father objected to the idea that they wanted to keep it a secret and threatened to go straight to the six o'clock news. Since they didn't want to put 'Dr. Benton Quest' in jail for treason, they told him we could talk about it whenever we wanted to, to whomever we wanted. Just him and me, and no reporters."

"Are you saying that week you were missing –" Fraiser started. She shook her head. "This Crandall person was –" Again she broke off. "Is that why you were all banged up, but your father came out fine?"

"I spent six and a half days with the corporation," Jonny said calmly. "Crandall was our handler, and he sucked. I mean, in an organization that made an institution out of child abuse, he was bad at his job."

"Sounds like he abused you just fine," Sam said angrily.

"Oh, he was good at that," Jonny said, and Jack noticed a bit of tension in his shoulders. The dog wriggled out from under Jonny's hand, stood up against the boy's chest, and began licking his face.

Daniel evidently noticed the same thing because he said, "I think it's time for breakfast, what about you guys? We can talk about this later."

"Why later?" Jonny asked.

"This is obviously upsetting you, and I think we should change the subject right now."

Jonny shrugged. "It won't make a difference, and I'd bet this command is just full of people who fit the profile of folks the corporation grabs."

Fraiser squeezed Jonny's shoulder. "I agree with Daniel. Everyone on this base who is vulnerable to the Corporation has already been briefed."

Jonny turned wide eyes towards her. "What did they tell you to do?" he asked sarcastically. "Duck and cover?" Real concern showed through the sarcasm.

"Actually, there's surveillance kept on my house at all times, and Cassie has someone who keeps an eye on her all the time." Fraiser's expression had gone from stern to sympathetic. "We're quite safe, Jonny. We know too much."

Jonny sighed. "What's for breakfast?"

"What do you want?" Jack asked him. "If we've got it, we'll get it for you."

Jonny looked up at him. "How about scrambled eggs and bacon, a couple of slices of sourdough toast and a glass of milk."

"And some orange juice," Dr. Fraiser said firmly.

Jonny nodded and Jack turned to Daniel. "What are you waiting for? Go get the man his breakfast!" Daniel blinked at him a few times, and his mouth worked soundlessly. Then he turned and left the infirmary.

Jonny looked up at Jack suspiciously. "Are you his commanding officer? I thought he was a civilian."

"He is," Jack said slowly. "But he's also a member of my team, so I am his commanding officer."

"You take civilians with you? That's cool." Jonny sighed again. "My dad says I'm not allowed to join the military, and the recruiters said it wouldn't make any difference. They wouldn't take me."

"Why not?" Jack asked, annoyed.

"I'd be too much of a target and would endanger my unit. I mean, even president's kids can join the army, but I can't because I've got too many nut jobs after me."

Sam sat down in the chair by the bed. "Well, why don't we talk about something else. I know you read my book because it was assigned, but did you like it?"

"Sure," Jonny said, and they commenced a conversation that Jack could take no part in. Oh, he understood way more of it than he let on – he'd always found the 'dumb grunt' routine too useful to discard – but he didn't know nearly enough to discuss it. And he'd never even tried to read Sam's book even though he had a copy, neatly autographed, in his bookshelf at home.

Daniel came back with a tray that was nearly over-burdened with food. Putting it on the bed table, he rolled it over in front of Jonny who started eating immediately.

Sam looked incredulous. "That's an awful lot of food, Daniel," she said dubiously.

"I remember how much I ate at fifteen," Daniel said. "Besides, I figure that whatever Jonny doesn't eat, Jack will finish for him." This sentence caught Jack in the middle of helping himself to a slice of toast. Torn briefly between embarrassment and irritation, Jack straightened his back unrepentantly and looked Daniel in the eye. His friend seemed quite pleased with his attempt at humor.

"Please," Jonny said, looking up at Jack and gesturing at the food. "There's no way I'll eat all of this."

Jack had a second slice of toast and a piece of bacon, but Jonny ate most of the rest on his own, though at least two pieces of bacon found their way into Bandit. Then Doc Fraiser claimed him and trundled him off for X-rays, leaving the dog behind. Bandit licked his paws and lips complacently.

Once Jonny was out of earshot, Jack turned to Daniel and Sam. "What's the news?"

"Not good, sir," Sam said, her expression growing sober.

"No?" Jack crossed his arms, glancing off to the door that had just closed behind the boy.

"No." Sam sighed. "There was a ship there, it left clear evidence of its presence, but it's gone now."

"Gone where?" Daniel asked and Sam shook her head.

"There's no way we know of to tell," she said. "It's just . . . gone."

"What are we going to tell Jonny?" Jack asked.

"General Hammond wants to talk to him," Daniel said. "As soon as possible."

"Well, if we don't know where they are, what's planned to retrieve them?"

"We're still trying to identify the Goa'uld who took them," Daniel said. "General Hammond sent for Teal'c to come home early. Evidently the fact that the foremost mind in several fields key to Earth's defense has been taken by the Goa'uld constitutes an emergency. One of the soldiers has drawn an image of the Jaffas' brand, and since I can't identify it . . ."

Jack nodded. "Right, that leaves Teal'c." He looked at Daniel, though, and there was a troubled expression in the anthropologist's eyes that made him think he was holding something back. "Are you sure you can't identify it?"

Sam's expression sharpened on Daniel's face and the other man shook his head uncomfortably. "I've got something niggling, but no, I really can't. I just have this bad feeling about it." Daniel's hands were making odd, incomplete gestures as he spoke and Jack sighed.

"Maybe it will come to you in time."

"It won't have to," Daniel said. "Teal'c's coming back."

Sam gave the colonel an anxious look. Jack had the strongest impression that Daniel had more of a clue than he was sharing, but didn't want it to be true. And that worried him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Jonny sat still during the X-rays. "Why are we doing this again?" he asked.

"You were pretty active last night," Dr. Fraiser said. "I want to make sure you haven't shifted anything important."

"It probably would have hurt, and I'd have said something."

"That's why I didn't do it last night," she said. "But it never hurts to double check."

"So, um . . ." He bit his lip. "How badly did I hurt them?"

"Perkins and Jennings?" Dr. Fraiser asked, her voice very clinical. "They'll be fine."

"But how are they now?" he asked.

"Hold still." There was a faint buzz and then she came out from behind the shield. Removing the lead drape from his torso and hanging it over its rod, she said, "Jonny, there's no reason to feel guilty."

"I hurt them, really badly, I could tell when I saw the orderly – I didn't get his name?"

"Perkins," Fraiser said. She pulled over a stool from against the wall and sat on it. "But I'm serious, you have no reason to feel guilty. Neither Dr. Jennings nor Sergeant Perkins blames you in the slightest."

"They should. I should have been in better control of myself."

She shook her head. "You were awakened out of a sound sleep by someone you didn't know. It's perfectly natural for you to react strongly."

"It's not perfectly natural to send three men flying around the room," Jonny said.

"With your training, and your background, it's understandable. It wasn't your fault."

Jonny shrugged. He knew she was wrong, but she wasn't going to stop unless he did. "So what now?"

She gazed into his eyes, and he knew she wasn't letting it go permanently. "Now I have to develop your films. Sit still for a few minutes and then we'll go over them."

Jonny looked down at his knees. He wondered if anyone else realized just how numb he really was. Dad . . . Hadji . . . He didn't know what to do. There wasn't much he _could_ do right now. He couldn't even stand up without hurting himself. His father would undoubtedly tell him to stay put, but it was hard to get used to the idea of sitting still while his father and brother . . .

He shook his head. He was putting up a good show, Jonny knew that. He'd learned how to do that very well over the years, but these were all smart people, all supposedly perceptive. Were they picking up on anything?

The doctor came out and tucked the pictures up onto the light boxes. "You don't appear to have damaged yourself any further, so I think we'll cast your ankle this afternoon."

_A cast? Maybe . . ._ "Will it be a walking cast?"

His hopes must have been utterly transparent because she smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid not, Jonny. The way your ankle is broken won't permit that."

Jonny slumped. "Right." _Great._

She squeezed his good ankle in an almost affectionate manner. "Sorry. You're going to be on crutches for awhile," she said. "Let's get you back out into the infirmary so I can wrap you up." She helped him down off the table and held his crutches for him. Once upright, one foot on the floor, the other one elevated behind him and aching, Jonny followed her out. "Though truthfully, I would rather you stayed off your feet altogether for awhile."

As they re-entered the main room of the infirmary, he saw Dr. Jackson, Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter waiting for them. Jonny reflected dolefully that it looked like she was going to have a lot of help in enforcing her orders. He wondered if someone, like Phil, had told them about his propensity for getting into trouble when not supervised. Bandit stood up, wagging his tail to greet him.

Before he could get back up onto the bed, Major Carter said, "Janet, are you going to put his cast on right now?"

"No, but I'd like him to stay here for the moment, keep his foot up and iced. I'm just waiting for some swelling to go down."

"General Hammond wants to talk to him." Some form of silent communication seemed to pass between the two women, and the doctor nodded grudgingly.

"Right. Well, get him back here as soon as possible."

"You ready, Jonny?" Major Carter asked.

"I haven't had a shower," Jonny said. "Or anything."

"Well, you're going to need some help," Dr. Fraiser said.

"I've been showering by myself since I was little," Jonny protested.

"A spotter," Colonel O'Neill said. "It can get pretty slick in there for a one-footed person. Don't worry, there's a seat in the infirmary shower for just these circumstances, but it's a little difficult to get in and out when you're hurt."

He rolled his eyes. "Well that makes sense," Jonny said. Then, hearing the incredibly nasty tone in his voice, he flushed. "I'm sorry, that was rude."

They were all looking just a little blank, and then Colonel O'Neill said, "I've often thought the same thing, but we're stuck with what we've got. Come on." Bandit hopped down from the hospital bed and, his nails clicking on the hard floor, followed them out.

* * *

"If Cassie apologized as often as this boy does, I'd wonder what she'd done," Dr. Fraiser said, gazing after the pair of them. 

"He's been raised in a lot of different environments," Daniel said. "An anthropologist's child, one that travels with his parents at any rate, learns to be sort of a mini-diplomat." The other two looked at him in startlement and he shrugged. "When you're always around strangers, you learn to be polite or you end up being disliked. Extreme politeness is a defense mechanism, as well as being a form of armor."

"True," Janet said, nodding.

"So it's a sign that he's not comfortable with us yet," Sam said. She was giving Daniel an odd look that he couldn't quite read.

"Well no doubt," he said. "He's been here less than twenty-four hours and he's been separated from all the people he knows." Daniel sighed. "Jack and I can see that he gets to General Hammond, Sam, if you've got things to do."

"I do," she said. "We're still trying to puzzle out that anomaly from the satellite. It doesn't match anything we've seen before when there were ships in our vicinity. And we still have no idea exactly how the Goa'uld got hold of the three of them. I somehow don't think they could have ringed down to the Quest property in Maine, but there's no sign . . ." She wandered off, lost in her speculations.

Janet nodded to Daniel and walked back into her office. Daniel sat down and crossed his arms. He and Jonny had a lot in common. An early childhood spent traveling around with parents who were scientists, death of a parent at a young age . . . but only one of Jonny's parents had died, and his father had not abandoned him as Daniel's grandfather had.

The boy was still in shock, and Daniel wasn't sure anyone realized just how profound that shock was. Seeing an alien presence manifest itself in his own father's body, in his brother's body, would be enough to send anyone over the edge into hysteria, but Jonny had not given way, not even alone on that ship. A breakdown was coming, of that there was no doubt, the only question was what form it would take.

* * *

True to his word, O'Neill had helped Jonny into the shower then ignored him while he got himself cleaned up, then helped him out again. Bandit had checked the whole room out carefully and was now sitting calmly by Colonel O'Neill's foot. 

Jonny felt much better now that he was clean and dry. He had been provided with a set of the same green pants O'Neill was wearing and a black T-shirt. Also a single black sock and his own right shoe. A white sneaker looked very out of place with the fatigues. Bandit walked up and sniffed him, then sneezed. As they started out of the room, Bandit kept pace with Jonny.

"My dad would not be pleased to see me dressed like this," Jonny said.

"His objection to your joining the military?" Colonel O'Neill asked.

Jonny nodded. "To be fair, it's not so much the military he objects to, though he says that he thinks I'd be very bad at taking orders. He says, ironically enough, that he doesn't want me going someplace where people will shoot at me."

O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "No father wants that, Jonny."

Shrugging was difficult on crutches, Jonny discovered to his annoyance. "Maybe not." He looked up at the officer next to him. "Do you have kids?"

The man went very quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I did. My son died a few years back."

Feeling a rush of embarrassment and sympathy, Jonny stopped in his tracks and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"

"No, no," O'Neill said, shaking his head and seeming to come back to normal. "No, it's not your fault. You couldn't know. I don't talk about Charlie much."

"Would it be rude to ask how he died?"

"No," O'Neill replied, but then he was silent for a long moment. "He found my gun, a pistol, and he shot himself accidentally."

Jonny blanched. "Oh."

"That's why I don't talk about it much."

"I can understand that," Jonny said, images filling his mind. Lots and lots of images. "I don't talk about my mother dying much, either."

"No?"

Jonny shook his head.

"Did you find her?"

"No." Jonny pursed his lips. "I was there."

O'Neill was silent for a moment. "That sucks." This was so totally not the response Jonny usually got from adults who found that out that he stared up at O'Neill in shock. "No, it really does," O'Neill said earnestly.

Jonny laughed and said, "Yeah, pretty much."

When the got back to the infirmary, Dr. Jackson was waiting for them, a file in his hands. Bandit trotted up to him and sniffed his shoes. The anthropologist stood up, smiling. "I told Sam we'd get him to General Hammond." O'Neill nodded. "Jonny could you do me a quick favor, though?"

"Sure."

"Look at this. Does it look familiar?"

Jonny looked down at the sheet of paper inside the file folder. It was a drawing of an oval symbol – the symbol that had been marked on the foreheads of the guards. Jonny nodded. "I saw that on the foreheads of the men who held us. What does it mean?"

"It's an indication of what Goa'uld they serve," Dr. Jackson said.

"Who do they serve?"

Dr. Jackson opened his mouth, and then sighed. "We don't know."

Jonny looked closer at the symbol. "But these symbols are Egyptian, right?"

"Well, sort of . . ." Dr. Jackson said dubiously.

"But it's a scale." Jonny looked at the picture more closely. "The scale of Ma'at," he said. "There's something missing here. There were lumps in each of the pans. I think it may have been the heart and the feather."

"What have you been talking to this kid about, Daniel?" O'Neill demanded.

"What?" Jonny and Dr. Jackson spoke almost in unison, and Jonny looked back and forth between the two adults, eyebrow raised.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Jack, his father's an anthropologist and an archeologist."

O'Neill looked down at him and Jonny shrugged. "I read Peabody's translations of the Egyptian folk tales when I was little," he said.

"Really?" Dr. Jackson smiled. "They're very good, if a little whimsical."

Nodding, Jonny said, "But if this is the symbol of a Goa'uld, and I think one of the Jaffa guys said, 'kneel before your god,' then . . . are they pretending to be gods?" Dr. Jackson nodded pensively. "So if this is the symbol of a god . . . there's any number of them it could be . . . I mean, Ma'at, for one. Thoth, Amut, even Anubis, Osiris or Horus. They're all involved in the weighing of the heart."

"It's not Osiris," Dr. Jackson said firmly.

Jonny looked up at his set expression and decided not to ask why he was so sure. He undoubtedly had an excellent reason. "But I would think that Anubis would use the jackal head, and Horus would use a falcon . Ma'at would probably use a feather." He pursed his lips. "Let's see . . . I didn't see any jackals, or crocodiles, so it probably wasn't Anubis or Amut." Colonel O'Neill was staring at him open mouthed. "There were lots of things that could have been feathers, but they could equally have been reeds . . ." He shook his head. "No falcons, though so I don't think it could have been Horus."

"What is he talking about?" O'Neill asked. The soldier squatted and started scratching Bandit on the head.

"Shhh!" Dr. Jackson said.

Jonny heard them but he wasn't really paying attention, lost in trying to remember the walls of the room. "But there were a lot of birds – or rather a lot of representations of the same bird, but I can't remember the name . . . really long, curving, skinny beak."

Dr. Jackson had an odd look on his face. "An ibis?"

"Yeah, that's it." Jonny nodded. "Which makes it Thoth. There were a fair number of apes as well, which just seals it." He looked up at Dr. Jackson's pale face. "But it's all just legends, right?"

"Right," said Colonel O'Neill briskly, giving Dr. Jackson an uneasy look. "Well, we'd better be getting you to General Hammond."

Jonny kept his mouth shut, not sure what the undercurrents he was sensing meant. Dr. Jackson seemed very quiet as they headed through the concrete corridors, going past soldiers of all shapes and stripes. All of them turned to look in bemusement at the boy on crutches followed by the small white dog. There was an elevator ride, and then another walk through corridors, these more sparsely peopled, and then they reached a door. Colonel O'Neill didn't bother to knock, he just opened it. The room was empty, but it was clearly the office of someone important. There was a large desk and a couple of flags. Bandit started checking out the room immediately.

"Jack, why don't you stay with Jonny while I go find the general."

"Sure, Daniel."

The colonel got him seated in a comfortable chair, an ottoman under his foot. Bandit came back over and hopped up on the ottoman, then walked across Jonny's leg as if it were a bridge to settle firmly on Jonny's lap. O'Neill smiled down at the little dog and plucked an ice pack out of a pocket of his jacket and draped it over Jonny's foot. "Thanks," Jonny said. "When the general comes in, should I stand up?"

"No, young man, that will not be necessary," said the deep voice of the bald man he'd met the day before. "Thank you, Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson."

O'Neill gave Jonny's shoulder a squeeze before nodding to his commanding officer and leaving with Dr. Jackson. Jonny looked up at General Hammond nervously. "I'm sorry, sir," he blurted as soon as the door was shut. "I didn't mean to hurt those men last night."

The old man smiled, but there was a hint of reserve in his expression. "That's not what this is about, son," he said. He didn't go back and sit behind the desk, instead he leaned against it facing Jonny. "There are some things I need to tell you. First off, we've sent a team through the wormhole to the planet we found you on."

Jonny's eyes widened. "And?" he asked almost fearfully, busying his hands with Bandit to conceal his nerves.

"The ship that brought you there was gone, as were all the Jaffa, and there was no sign of where they had gone. We've contacted some of our allies to find out if they might be able to trace where the ship went, but that doesn't appear to be possible."

"But . . ." Jonny struggled to understand the implications of this simple statement. Bandit whined, picking up his unease. "If you can't figure out where the ship went, then how are you going to get them back?"

"We've got people working all the angles we can at this very moment, Jonny, but I thought you ought to know the truth."

Jonny nodded. "So what's being done?" he asked. "What can I do to help?"

"Director Corvin said you'd ask that, and he also said I ought to take you up on it." General Hammond smiled more genuinely at him. "You've already been some help. Dr. Jackson seems to think you may have identified the Goa'uld that has your family."

"Thoth?" Jonny asked. "But what – this doesn't make a lot of sense."

"All it really means, son, is that your father has added another to his long list of enemies. We'll explain in more detail when we have more information. For now, just understand this. At the order of the president and the joint chiefs, we are putting all of our resources into the search for your father."

Jonny nodded. All that meant to him was that they were really scared. Worried about what his father could tell people, what he could build . . . "Don't forget Hadji," he said.

"We're not forgetting Hadji, son," Hammond said. "We'll find them and bring them both back safe. But in the meantime, we don't know if you're still a target, so we're going to keep you here, in Stargate Command. It's the safest place for you, and I have been reliably informed that if we sent you away, you'd bend all your efforts towards getting back here again."

Jonny smiled weakly. "I would, and I'd have help," he said. "Race would try to stop me because he'd know that's what my father would prefer, but Jessie'd help me in a minute."

"So we're going to short circuit the problem by keeping you here. But that means you're going to staying in an active military installation. There is only one other person who lives here full time, Teal'c, the fourth member of Colonel O'Neill's team. He's not from Earth, so we decided that it would better for him to stay on base most of the time."

"He's an alien? What, is he one of those Roswell guys?"

"No. Actually, he's a Jaffa."

"One of those guard types who work with the Goa'uld?" Jonny asked, eyes wide.

"Yes. He defected when it became clear that we were going to have some success in defeating them. He's part of an underground movement in the Jaffa to get rid of the Goa'uld and seek freedom."

"So he's a nice guy?"

"He's a good man." General Hammond looked down. "The thing is, son, you're going to have to learn some rules around here."

There was a sudden klaxon that made Jonny jump. The sudden movement made his foot twinge, and Bandit jumped off his lap and started barking wildly. A male voice spoke over the intercom. "Unscheduled offworld activation."

"What does that mean?" Jonny asked. "Is somebody activating the stargate?"

General Hammond looked perturbed and nodded. "Yes. It's probably just Teal'c coming back. Just a moment." He picked up one of the two phones on his desk and dialed. "Have you got a code yet?" He waited. "Thank you. Tell him and the others that there will be a briefing in an hour." With that he hung up the phone and looked up again. "Yes, that's one of the things you may hear from time to time while you're on base." The sirens turned off, though Bandit kept barking for a minute. Then he stopped, looking pleased with himself, as if he'd frightened them into submission.

"Must make it hard to sleep," Jonny said, rubbing his ear. Bandit was now examining the room again minutely.

"It can," General Hammond agreed. "But there's a reason it's so loud. It's not always a friend."

Jonny's brows climbed. "And this is the safest place for me?" he asked.

"The iris protects us from most threats." Hammond gazed seriously into Jonny's eyes. "You're very young, but I get the feeling from what I've heard and read over the last twelve hours that you're an extremely mature young man who has faced quite a few of your own world shaking crises over the years. I'm going to show you the respect others of my acquaintance think you're worthy of by being completely frank with you."

Somehow that didn't feel as positive as it sounded, Jonny thought. It sounded rather ominous, in fact. Jonny gulped and nodded.

"We don't know how the Goa'uld got you off of Earth. There are only two ways we know of. One of those is the stargate, and we know that wasn't used. The other is a ship. We can guard the stargate, but guarding you against extraction by ship is beyond our means at this time."

"But if they can get to me under Cheyenne Mountain . . ."

"Then we're all in a heap of trouble. And there are two other considerations. Here we know the threat is real, we will guard you from it. Out there, only one or two people will know the truth, and if they were overwhelmed you'd be vulnerable. And . . ." General Hammond looked down again, and when he looked up his face was very grim. "The being who has taken over your father will have the ability to masquerade as him to some extent. For all we know, that was part of their original plan. There are very few people who would say no to Benton Quest coming to retrieve his son from their care, no matter what they were told."

Jonny felt his gut clench. "I don't want to see that thing again."

"I can understand that," Hammond said. "I've seen one or two of my people taken over by Goa'uld, and it's not pleasant. Now, I need you to answer a few questions for me if you would."

"Sure." Jonny tried to smile at the general but it was a dismal effort. The man pulled another footstool over to the chair and sat down in front of him.

"I know how tough this has got to be for you, son, but hang in there. We will get them back."

Jonny nodded. "What did you want to know?"

"We have some of your records, but not all of them, and your medical records hint at things that could pose problems for you and for us if we don't understand them fully."

Jonny flushed. "Like last night?" he asked.

"Like last night," Hammond confirmed. "Now understand this, son, I don't blame you for what happened. It was a fluke, and it's not your fault." Jonny shrugged. "But we didn't realize that you were combat trained."

"Oh. Race started teaching me self-defense when I was seven," he said.

"So, can you give me a run down of your skills in that area." Jonny did as he asked, a little startled by the length of the list. Hammond tilted his head when he was done and said, "No firearms training? That seems a little odd."

Jonny felt himself go red again. "I don't like guns much," he said simply, and General Hammond just waited. "Sir, I – I can fire a gun, and I know how to clean, load, take down, assemble, most any standard civilian firearm you hand me. I just don't like them."

"This could be important, Jonny. Why not?"

"General it's –" Jonny shivered slightly. "I suppose I should tell you since I had a panic attack about them last night," he said miserably. "You guys probably didn't notice because it was in the middle of everything else, but – it was kind of hard for me to miss."

"Go on, son," the general said kindly.

"When I was twelve my father and I were grabbed by an organization, a –" Jonny faltered and the general picked up.

"The corporation?"

"Yes."

"I've read a little bit about that in your file."

"Well if it's in the file, surely I don't have to tell you."

"There aren't any details, Jonny. I'm sorry. Please go on."

Jonny looked at the flag in the corner, the golden eagle atop the staff, dimly aware of Bandit sniffing around its base. "There was a man named Crandall, our handler, and he was a really scary guy." _That sounds so lame!_ "He beat up on me some, but when it was almost over, he got really mad and he pulled out a revolver and put it to my father's head."

"I see." The man's expression was full of sympathy. "He threatened to shoot him?"

"No!" Jonny groaned. "If it was just that I could have handled it. That's happened lots of times before." The general raised his eyebrows. "It . . . things had gotten better. Crandall had been sent away and the man who was in charge was nicer, less vindictive. Then Crandall returned with no warning. He started talking, acting like he usually did." Jonny swallowed, caught by the memory of the man walking over to his father and examining his work, complaining that it wasn't adequate. "He got behind my dad and then suddenly grabbed him, forcing him to the ground on his knees. Then he pulled out the revolver." Jonny's mouth was dry. "He caught my eye and then fired it. I ran over to him, I don't know why, I wanted him to stop. He kept firing it. I didn't know if it was loaded or not, obviously it wasn't but there was no way to tell. Any one of those chambers could have been full." Hammond was silent, but Jonny still wasn't looking at him. "When I reached them, he swung the hand holding the gun at me, knocking me to the ground and breaking my arm." Jonny took a deep breath and he heard the general do the same, clearly intending to speak. He shook his head sharply. The story wasn't done. "Then he put the gun back at my father's temple and fired once more." He closed his eyes. "Then he shoved Dad away and told me – not Dad – me, that next time there would be a round in the chamber."

Finally he looked into the general's face, and he really wished it had been Colonel O'Neill he'd told the story to. He'd probably make some off the cuff witty remark that would minimize it, but Hammond looked utterly horrified and was oozing sympathy. "I'm sorry, son, that must have been terrible."

Jonny shrugged. "I've got a really strong phobia of guns. It took nearly a year for me to be able to hold one for any length of time. I do okay most of the time, especially now, I mean, I'd have to. People are always pointing them at me or my friends. But last night – I guess it was on top of everything else – I just panicked."

"Perfectly understandable," Hammond said. "Are there any other triggers for panic attacks that we should be aware of?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Jonny said, "I haven't had one about guns in over a year," he said. "I mean, I actually pointed a submachine gun at someone about a year ago and there wasn't a blip. I guess what I'm saying is, I don't know. I haven't had them at all for nearly a year." _Not really . . . not to notice._

"I see. Well, if something happens, please let us know so we can help you."

Jonny nodded. _Not that I'll be able to, what with the freezing and all . . ._ "Of course, sir." Race would have seen right through it, but Hammond seemed to take it at face value.

He seemed to . . . but he leaned closer and said, "Son, you have neatly avoided answering my question. Do you have any more phobias we should be aware of?"

Jonny flushed again and shrugged. "We're in the middle of one," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"My father's been taken by bad guys, and we don't know how to get him back," Jonny said in a small voice. "The fact that it's aliens just makes it surreal."

Hammond put a hand on Jonny's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry, son, that must be very hard."

Jonny looked down at his hands, resting uselessly in his lap. "Aside from that, I have some of the same issues you might find in a combat veteran. I don't handle being grabbed well at all, and I can be very edgy around men I don't know well if they resemble Crandall. Really large, dark-haired men."

"I see," the general said. "Thank you for being so honest with me. Now, I have asked Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson to keep an eye on you. Will you be comfortable with that?"

"I'm sure they have more important things to do than babysit me," Jonny said.

"I don't consider it babysitting," General Hammond said. "You'll also need them to help orient you to your new surroundings. Further, I'd like to extend your permission to speak freely to Major Carter, Dr. Fraiser and Teal'c, who you'll probably meet later this evening."

"Okay," Jonny said. "Does that mean I have to answer questions if they ask me stuff?"

"Well, not exactly," Hammond replied, sounding somewhat startled by the question. "But if you feel the need to talk about something, or if something you know might prove useful, you are free to tell them, knowing that they will keep it confidential."

Jonny nodded. "Okay. Can you answer some questions for me?"

Hammond smiled at him. "I can try."

Bandit appeared beside the ottoman, hopped up, and made his way back to Jonny's lap.

Uneasily, Jonny glanced at the clock, automatically scratching his dog. "Or should I ask Dr. Jackson or Colonel O'Neill? I mean, I don't want to take up too much of your time, sir."

Hammond smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about that, Jonny. What do you want to know?"

"Well, why does it matter if some alien is pretending to be an Egyptian god? Why does Dr. Jackson seem so alarmed by the thought?"

Hammond stood up again and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. "Well, son, actually, it isn't so much that the Goa'uld pretend to be Egyptian gods, it's that they appear to have inserted themselves into human culture, taking on the roles of the Egyptian gods."

Jonny nodded. "Okay, so some Goa'uld pretended to be gods three thousand years ago and their descendants haven't given it up?"

Hammond shook his head. "Not their descendants. Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill discovered this on their first trip through the stargate. They inadvertently wound up confronting a being who called himself Ra. He was the actual creature who was worshipped in Ancient Egypt."

Johnny blinked at him, a little startled. "So he's over three thousand years old?"

"Well, he was. He's dead." Hammond looked pained. "You see, the Goa'uld have devices that allow them to rejuvenate their bodies and permit near-immortality."

"But they can't live without humans?" Jonny asked.

"Or some other host organism," Hammond said. "But they seem to prefer humans sufficiently that they've taken people all over the galaxy to live as slaves and serve them. There are colonies all over the place out there, humans transplanted from Earth by the Goa'uld."

"And the personalities of the gods from the stories . . . they seem to hold true for the Goa'uld you encounter today?" Jonny asked, an uneasy pit developing in his stomach.

"To a certain degree," Hammond said.

"Oh." Jonny bit his lip. "I don't think I have any other questions right now."

"Well then, we'd better get you back to the infirmary so that Dr. Fraiser doesn't become upset by my monopolizing one of her patients." Jonny got himself up and Bandit hopped down. General Hammond opened the door for him. "I'll make sure you have my extension so you can call me if you have any problems, son." Jonny nodded and headed out the door.

Dr. Jackson was waiting outside alone, and he guided Jonny back to the infirmary, Bandit following close behind, as always. On the way, Jonny looked up at him and said, "Do many people around here know very much about Egyptian mythology?"

"No, not really," Dr. Jackson said.

"So, the general and Colonel O'Neill really don't know the significance of the fact that my father was taken by Thoth?"

The anthropologist paused in his footsteps and looked down at Jonny very seriously. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, General Hammond explained about how the Goa'uld are the actual people who pretended to be the Egyptian gods."

"Not just Egyptian, but I understand what you mean, go on."

Jonny absorbed this qualification with a bit of a shiver. "Well, doesn't it seem ominous to you that the god of wisdom, of engineering, science, medicine and knowledge went out of his way to steal my father out of all the people on Earth?"

"Yes, Jonny, yes it does."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The word 'briefing' rather suggested something that would be . . . well . . . brief, Jack thought as the meeting dragged on. This particular briefing had been anything but, despite the fact that there was nothing of value to report. They still didn't know what kind of ship had been used to take the Quests away, and though Teal'c had confirmed Jonny's hypothesis that the Goa'uld whose Jaffa had been chasing him was Thoth, Teal'c knew next to nothing about him. Only that he stayed away from the others for the most part, and did not involve himself in their disagreements.

They had already sent word to the Tok'ra and the Tollans, looking for information regarding ways to detect cloaked ships, and had received the promise that the Tok'ra would send a representative to consult with them.

Jack was stretching when Daniel spoke up suddenly. "Has anyone wondered why the Goa'uld knew to take Benton Quest in the first place?"

Sam shrugged. "There've been a lot of humans taken from Earth, Daniel. Benton Quest isn't exactly low profile."

"Yeah," Jack said. "The Russians were running a stargate program for awhile. And that NID program was a little hit or miss."

"And Dr. Quest has worked with the Russians," Major Davis said, "but then you'd be hard pressed to find a country whose scientists Dr. Quest hasn't worked with at some point."

General Hammond looked at his watch. "Dr. Jackson, you can go."

Daniel's eyes lit up. "Thank you, sir," he said, jumping up to go.

As he left the room, Jack looked up at Hammond in annoyance. "Why does he get to go?" The general just gave him an irritated look and Jack subsided, rolling his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Sam beside him, controlling a snicker.

Hammond looked seriously around the table. The leaders of all the SG teams that were on planet were present. "You must understand, the entire objective of the SGC has been shifted for the duration of this crisis. It has come down from the president and the joint chiefs that our primary objective from now until Benton Quest is retrieved is the retrieval of Benton Quest and his son Hadji, alive, well, and –" He broke off and cleared his throat. "Alive, well and deloused." There was a ripple of astonished amusement around the room and Hammond allowed himself a small smile. "It actually says that."

"I didn't know the president and the joint chiefs had such a good sense of humor, sir," said Lou Feretti.

"Actually, that was Jonny's word for it," Jack said.

Colonel Norton, commander of SG-10, let out a chuckle. "That kid is one hell of a trooper," he said.

"Oh, do you know him, Colonel?" asked General Hammond.

"I commanded the extraction team that got him out of that mess three years ago, sir." He looked around uneasily, then shrugged as if to say why not. "Can I ask why Bannon isn't here? He's the kid's legal guardian, or at least he was then, and I happen to know he's devoted to him."

Hammond pursed his lips. "He doesn't have clearance."

Jack watched Norton's eyebrows climb. "Is he going to get clearance, sir?"

"That remains to be seen, colonel," Hammond said. "I want you all to spend some time working up possible contingency plans for every situation you can think of. We need to have plans in place to get the Quests out without harming them, no matter what it takes. Benton Quest with a Goa'uld in his head is a bigger threat to this world than any of us can possibly imagine."

"Let's just say that if he'd agreed to work on the stargate program six years ago, none of you would ever have met me," Sam said suddenly. "He's the foremost mind in astrophysics these days, and several other key fields."

Hammond nodded. "However, Benton Quest returned to us, alive, sane and with the memories of a powerful Goa'uld in his head could be a benefit beyond our present ability to calculate. I want you all to start presenting plans to me as soon as possible. This means yesterday, folks. Dismissed."

They all rose to go but Hammond called Jack, Sam and Teal'c back. "I am putting SG-1 in charge of keeping Jonny out of trouble. I know this may sound like a babysitting detail, but I've been reading this kid's file, and he is frighteningly good at putting out fires."

"He's a fifteen-year-old boy, general," Jack started, but Hammond shook his head.

"I know his age, colonel," the older man said. "Frankly, it's irrelevant. I have been told by more than one source not to disregard Jonny's thoughts on anything, and I've also been warned that if I don't let him get involved in the work to retrieve his family, he will find his own way to become involved." The general looked unusually grim. "Worst case scenario is he finds a way to take over the control room, open a gate and goes out to find them himself. We don't want that happening. But because he may yet be a target, he will be staying on base for the foreseeable future. I need you three and Dr. Jackson to find him useful, productive things to do to keep him from taking matters into his own hands."

"Yes, sir, General Hammond," Jack said.

"You don't really think he could take over the control room, do you, sir?" asked Sam.

"I don't know. But it would be as well not to find out, don't you think?" Sam gave an uneasy sigh and nodded.

"I have told him that he can speak freely with any of you, and with Dr. Fraiser, and I've already explained who and what Teal'c is." Teal'c nodded gravely. "Now, he can't help us if we don't provide him with complete information. Henceforward, he is to be given the same access he would have if he were a member of the SGC. We will be treating him as if he were Dr. Jackson's assistant."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Daniel's assistant? Why Daniel's?"

Jack shook his head, struck suddenly by something he hadn't considered until now. "Sir, I'm not sure we should do that," he said.

"And why not?" asked Hammond, looking phlegmatic.

"Well, because one of the major reasons Dr. Quest didn't want to get involved in this project is that he didn't want his sons to get within 'two hundred miles of something like the stargate.' His words, sir. He wouldn't want Jonny to be involved in this, I'm sure of it."

"Isn't it a little late for that, colonel?" Sam asked. "He's here, he's been through the stargate, he knows about the Goa'uld. We can't take any of that back at this point."

"No, but . . ." Jack shrugged.

"It is only natural that a son would wish to be involved in the retrieval of his father," Teal'c said seriously. "As well as the retribution meted out to those who have taken him."

"Doesn't anyone else think that this kid is too young to be involved in this?" Jack asked plaintively.

Hammond sighed. "As it happens, Jack, I agree with you. But that choice has been taken out of our hands by this Thoth character."

Jack looked down, sighing. "Yes, general."

Sam cleared her throat. "When you say he's Daniel's assistant, do you –"

"It was a point of reference, nothing more, major," Hammond said impatiently. "Just you be careful. I don't want him made a point of contention between the two of you, or any other scientist who might be interested in working with him."

"Of course, not, sir," Sam said, looking appalled.

"See that it doesn't come up. You might not behave that way, but keep an eye out for that tendency on the part of others."

"Yes sir."

"Any questions?" They shook their heads and he nodded. "Come to me with any problems. Dismissed."

They left the conference room and paused as was their usual habit, to digest the information. "We'd better introduce Jonny to Teal'c," Carter said.

"Who is this boy, that he has excited such interest amongst the Goa'uld and Earth's scientists?" asked Teal'c as they headed towards the infirmary.

"From what I gather," Jack said, scratching his head, "he's the son of the smartest man on the planet."

"Well, if not the smartest, certainly among the top five," Sam said.

Jack tilted his head curiously. "Where do you and Daniel fit onto that hierarchy?" he asked

Sam smiled. "I wasn't kidding when I said that you would never have met me if Dr. Quest had agreed to work for the program. You might never have met Daniel either. See, Dr. Quest is an acknowledged authority in astrophysics, anthropology, archeology, linguistics, chemistry and he's a medical doctor." Jack's eyebrows raised. "And I might be missing something," Sam went on, "so the only reason you'd have needed either Daniel or me is because Quest could only be one place at a time." She shrugged. "I guess my point is we're not on the list."

"Wait a minute here, are you saying that the two of you science geeks who intimidate the hell out of me because you're way, way smarter than I am – you're not even on this list?"

Sam shook her head. "And Jonny's his son."

"He's a kid."

"He's already got a working understanding of theoretical astrophysics, and with the knowledge that my theories are proven, that's just going to move him further forward."

"He's a kid," Jack repeated firmly.

"I haven't asked Daniel for his evaluation of –"

Jack caught the major by her arm and spun her to face him. "Read my lips, Carter. He. Is. A. Kid."

"What's your point, colonel?" Sam asked.

"Treat him like a kid," Jack said. "Don't treat him like a super-genius – and don't treat him like an adult. He needs to be treated like a kid."

"I wasn't exactly going to treat him like an alien!" Sam exclaimed, glaring at him. Then her eyes widened and she gave Teal'c an apologetic look. "Sorry Teal'c."

"I am not offended," Teal'c said in his quiet voice.

"How are you going to treat him?" Jack demanded.

Sam rolled her eyes and then narrowed, them, crossing her arms. "I was going to treat him like Jonny."

Jack's eyes narrowed to match hers. "Define that, Carter, I dare you."

"I don't know him well enough yet," she growled. "What, do I need to type up a five page mission statement?"

"It wouldn't hurt!" He had gone too far and he knew it but it was too late to take it back.

Sam's eyes widened, and her lips curled upwards in a decidedly unfriendly smile. "Bite me," she replied. "Sir." Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

"I am confused," Teal'c said, and Jack turned on him, expecting some remark about the age of maturity among the Jaffa. "Major Carter seemed angry with you, yet she invited you to bite her. This seems contradictory."

Jack stared at him for a moment. "I'm not going to touch that," he muttered.

Teal'c blinked once. "Touch what? I do not understand."

Shaking his head, Jack said, "Ask Daniel. He'll explain it to you."

* * *

Sam arrived at the infirmary somewhat out of breath and with her eyes glittering with indignation. Daniel wondered who'd gotten her dander up, but given the fact that she was alone, he had a strong suspicion that it was Jack. He wondered what they'd been arguing about, but he was too busy talking to Jonny to ask.

The dog was on the floor, wandering about. He trotted up to the newcomer and sniffed her, then sat up hopefully. Sam squatted and pet the dog for a few moments, and then she said, "What are you two talking about?"

Jonny looked up and grinned. "Daniel's teaching me the Abydonian dialect of ancient Egyptian. It's fascinating."

"Yeah, and Jonny's going to teach me Kung."

"!Kung," Jonny repeated, correcting the glottal stop. Daniel repeated him quietly.

"Jonny knows a language you don't?" Sam asked teasingly, picking the dog up and bringing him over to the bed. The boy patted the spot beside him and Bandit padded up to it and sat down.

"I only know twenty-three Earth languages, Sam. There's a whole lot more that I don't know."

"Only?" Sam repeated wryly.

Jonny gave him a startled look. "I don't speak nearly that many."

"What languages do you speak, Jonny?" Sam asked.

The boy got a thoughtful look on his face. "Fluently?" he asked. Sam nodded. "Let me think . . . French, Arabic, German, Spanish and Portuguese." Sam nodded as Jonny paused, but Daniel somehow didn't think he was done. So far, he counted five. "And . . . Chinese, Latin!Kung, um . . . Basque, Japanese, and Navajo."

Sam's eyes rounded as she listened to the complete list. Jack and Teal'c came in at Chinese and paused in the doorway. Daniel tilted his head. "Navajo?"

"Yeah," Jonny said, nodding. "One of my Grandpa Doug's friends was one of the code talkers from World War II," he explained. "He taught me. It was really cool!"

"So that's eleven?" Daniel asked.

"I guess," Jonny said. "I never counted." His eyes shifted and widened. "Who's that?" he asked, looking at Teal'c.

Jack walked forward. "This is the fourth member of my team, Teal'c. Teal'c, this is Jonny Quest."

"It is a pleasure to meet you JonnyQuest," Teal'c said holding out his hand to be shaken.

"Just Jonny is fine," Jonny said. "Hi." He was staring up at the alien man with wide eyes. "You're . . . big."

"I am," Teal'c said, and Daniel noticed the subtle twitch at the side of his mouth that indicated the equivalent of a chuckle in the Jaffa's demeanor. "I am told that I am frightening. Do you find me so?"

"I –" The boy broke off and cleared his throat, smiling. "I don't know yet," he said. "Lots of people look frightening and aren't, and even more look ordinary and are terrifying."

"This is true," the Jaffa said. "You are wise for your years."

"But still a kid," Jack said, and Daniel wondered about the peculiar emphasis he placed on the word 'still.'

"I'm fifteen," Jonny said defensively. "In some cultures that's the age of majority. Old enough to get married."

Jack tilted his head. "Do you want to get married?"

Jonny's eyes widened. "No!" he exclaimed. "Why?"

"Don't worry about Jack," Daniel said. "He can be very odd at times." He gave Jack a look to get him to shut up. When he started babbling, he had a tendency to offend everyone in sight without much in the way of effort. _Little gray butts indeed._

"Oh," Jonny said.

"If I may ask, what is that?" asked Teal'c, pointing at the white dog who was gazing up at him curiously.

The boy looked around at the dog, and said, "That's my dog, Bandit."

"It is a dog?" Teal'c confirmed and Jonny nodded. "That species seems to come in many shapes and sizes. How very peculiar."

"It's deliberate selective breeding," Jonny said. "Dogs have been bred for lots of different kinds of work, but Bandit here is just a mutt." He bent and rolled his dog onto his back, scratching his belly till the dog was completely limp. Then he shrugged. "Well, I've got the cast and it's cured. Where to now?"

"What does the doctor say the order of business for the rest of the day is?" asked Jack.

Jonny opened his mouth to reply, but Janet beat him to it. "Rest. He needs to spend the rest of the day in his room taking it easy. No meetings, nothing too strenuous."

"Language lessons?" Daniel asked, grinning.

"That sounds about the right level of activity," she said. "So long as he stays off his feet."

"I'm right here," Jonny said plaintively. "Please don't talk about me in the third person."

"I'm sorry, Jonny," Janet said. "You're right. But I'm quite serious. I want you off your feet completely for the next several days at least. And keep your foot elevated."

"Yes, ma'am," Jonny said.

"I'll send you up something that will help you shower," she said. "Now, all of you, out."

Daniel helped Jonny off the bed and the little dog jumped down, skittering slightly on the concrete floor. They headed out in a group, Bandit scampering ahead, then lagging behind, getting underfoot for everyone in the halls. Finally Teal'c bent and caught the little dog up, holding him, wiggling and squirming, against his chest.

They reached the VIP suite and Jack went ahead to open the door. Jonny swung himself through and into the middle of the room, where he stopped dead. Then he swung over to the dresser where there were a few framed photographs. Standing on one foot, leaning on one crutch, he freed his hand from the other and rearranged the pictures. "This is a little creepy," he said.

"How so?" Daniel asked.

Jonny swung back and pulled open a drawer. "Yup, just a little creepy."

Jack walked over and looked down into the drawer. He shrugged and shut it. "Looks like underwear, Jonny, what's creepy about that?"

* * *

_How can they possibly understand?_ Jonny wondered. He turned and went over to the bed, sitting down and swinging his foot up onto the bed. It was harder than he'd expected. He settled himself, shifting the pillows behind him. Teal'c, the Jaffa, was still holding Bandit, but the little dog was no longer struggling, for the enormous man was gently stroking his back with one hand while the dog sat in the other.

He shrugged. "The last time I came into a bedroom and found my stuff all neatly laid out like this, I was with the Corporation. It sucked."

Sam walked over from the table and handed Jonny an envelope. "This appears to be a letter," she said. He looked down at it and felt his face get warm. His eyes burned briefly.

Turning, he stuffed the letter under the pillow. "It's from Race," he said. "I'll read it later. Can I have Bandit over here?"

Teal'c seemed to awake from a reverie and walked forward, placing the dog on the bed. Bandit trotted over to Jonny, stood up on his hind legs and immediately started licking his face.

"Down, Bandit," Jonny said. He focused on the dog, paying very little attention to the adults that were in the room.

"Well, colonel, I'd better get back to work," Major Carter said. "Teal'c, maybe you can recognize the footprint of this ship better than the rest of us."

"I will try," the Jaffa said.

They left, but Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill stayed. Jonny looked up. "You don't have to hang around all the time," he said. "I'm sure it's bound to get boring."

Colonel O'Neill shrugged and said, "Boring? It's nice to get a chance to sit down for awhile."

Jonny rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid," he said. "This is a babysitting detail, and I know it."

"No, no, it's not –" Dr. Jackson said, but O'Neill was more honest.

"Yes, of course it is," the soldier said.

"Jack!" Dr. Jackson exclaimed.

"What, Daniel?" O'Neill said. "It is."

"Do you have to be so blunt about it?" Dr. Jackson asked.

"Sugar-coating things doesn't help anybody."

"I don't think of it as babysitting," Dr. Jackson protested.

"Would you two just leave me alone for awhile?" Jonny asked. "I want to read my letter. It's not like I could go anywhere, and I don't see a computer in here." He looked around. "And I'll bet that phone only calls within this facility."

Dr. Jackson's eyebrows went up, and O'Neill quirked a sideways grin. "You're quite right. I'll be outside for a while. Daniel?"

The anthropologist opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded a little sheepishly at Jonny. "Well, since Jack has so kindly volunteered to hover, I'll head back to my office." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small pad of paper, jotting down something. "Here, my extension, Sam's extension, Teal'c's extension, and Janet's extension."

Jonny knit his brows. "Who's Sam?"

"Major Carter."

He nodded. "And Janet?"

"Dr. Fraiser. Sorry." Dr. Jackson shrugged in apparent embarrassment. He looked down at his note, and after a brief pause, he jotted again. "Here's Jack's extension, for future reference." He walked over and tucked it under the edge of the phone. "Not that he's ever in his office, but I think he knows how to use his voice mail."

"Nice, Daniel," O'Neill said. Jonny bit his lip. They kept making him laugh, despite his stress. Or maybe it was because of his stress. "Well, I'll just be outside," O'Neill added, walking over to the door and opening it. Dr. Jackson shrugged, gave Jonny a friendly grin, and walked out. O'Neill winked and went out, shutting the door.

Jonny leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes. A second later Bandit was licking his face again, and he scratched along the little dog's spine, in silent communion with him for a long while. Finally, Bandit gave him a light nip on the nose, then settled down next to him. Jonny continued to stroke the warm furry body. The envelope crinkled as he leaned against the pillow and he felt his eyes start to burn again. He pulled the letter out. His name was written on the outside of it in Race's neat script. Gulping, he popped the back of it open and pulled out a single page.

Dear Jonny,

I'm glad to hear that you're all right, sport, just wish I could be there with you. I'll keep pulling strings at my end to get in to see you, so hang in there. I'll be there with you as soon as I can. As always, remember the rules and keep your chin up.

I grabbed the stuff I knew you'd need immediately, and a few things I knew you'd want. Jessie thought to include your photos. Let whoever's in charge there know right away if there's anything missing, or even just if there's anything you want.

I love you, Jonny, and I'm not going to let anything stand in my way of getting you back home. I'm hoping that if they take this letter, they'll let you write back to me, so do, please. Let me know how you are.

Love,

Race

Jonny rolled over on his face and let the tears that were brimming flow into the bedspread. It didn't sound like Phil had even told him about the broken foot. He'd never gone anywhere, been anywhere, for longer than a day where Race or his father weren't close by. Maybe it was pathetic to be fifteen and this dependent, but . . .

Bandit licked his ear once and then curled up beside his head. Jonny lay still for a long time, wishing he knew what he could do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The dark haired, bronze-skinned young man sat with his legs crossed comfortably on the floor as he had for the better part of the day. His master had stopped in to observe him twice, but the boy had not moved.

The battle had shifted focus, but it had not stopped.

Hadji fought back the despair that was engendered by the knowledge that he'd sent his brother off to die. He might have done it, but he had been tricked into it. This monster inside him had hidden the truth from him until it was too late. Rage and hate, barely controlled, simmered beneath the surface of his mind.

"_Your hatred will only make my eventual victory the sweeter," _said Klorel in a poisonous tone.

Hadji's lips moved slightly into the barest hint of a smile. _"My hatred will make my inevitable triumph more certain," _he replied. _"You will pay for the death of my brother, I will see to that by whatever means I must."_

Klorel's anger was less low key. _"You will fade, you will attenuate, you will cease to matter. You will cede control to me because I am the superior being."_

"_I can live without you. You cannot live without me. I do not think that makes you the 'superior' being."_

"_My life will extend over many centuries," _Klorel replied. _"You will extend over many centuries, but only through me."_

"_Only through that machine," _Hadji said. _"I can see inside your mind as you see inside mine. I know how your people operate."_

"_You are a weak being!" _Klorel shrieked. _"You should not have this power. You should cower before your god!"_

"_You are not my god." _Hadji opened his eyes. It was an irritant that he felt such pleasure in his own control of such ordinary functions. _"You are no one."_

* * *

Jack sat in a chair outside the VIP room, hoping he'd done the right thing by leaving the kid alone. It was no easy thing to figure out another person's coping mechanisms, and Jonny had to feel pretty out of his depth right now. Navigating emotional trauma was hard enough as an adult . . . at fifteen . . .

After an hour of silence, he stood up and turned to face the door. He knocked lightly, but there was no response. Ready to retreat immediately if Jonny objected, Jack carefully opened the door. Jonny lay sprawled on the bed, his head turned to the side. There was clear evidence of tears on his cheek, and his dog was cuddled in his arms. The dog lifted his head and eyed Jack beadily. He tested the air with his nose, looked thoughtful, then rested his chin back on his master's arm. Obscurely pleased at having met with canine approval, Jack stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Even if Jonny wanted to be alone at other times, he suspected the boy particularly needed company while he slept.

He settled in an overstuffed armchair with a book he found on a nearby shelf. Specifically, it was a book of Egyptian mythology. He flipped to the index and found Thoth, then began to read about the 'god of wisdom.'

He'd gotten just deep enough into the details to start getting alarmed when Jonny stirred. "Wha – where – oh." The boy pushed himself upright and looked over at Jack. "I thought you were outside," he said, looking grumpy.

Bandit stretched and hopped down off the bed. He wandered over to Jack, sniffed his shoes, then disappeared into the bathroom.

"I was outside. I got a little worried. Then when I saw you were asleep, I figured I'd keep you company."

"In case I had another nightmare?" Jonny sighed. "I usually only have them late." He made a sour face and spoke ironically. "I guess I don't dream right during naps."

Jack nodded. "Good to know. How are you feeling?"

Jonny gave him an exasperated look. "How do you think?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

The boy turned away and looked around the room, clearly looking for something else to talk about. "Where are the food and water bowls?" he asked.

Jack blinked, looking around as well. "I don't know." He stood up and went into the bathroom, but there was no sign of bowls – and no sign of dog either. Then he caught the sound of licking and peeked behind the shower curtain in the bathtub. Bandit was drinking the water at the drain. "Oh, hell," he muttered.

Jonny appeared in the doorway, and his face was set in an angry glower. "Didn't anyone think to pick up any dog food?" he asked. Then he went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Jack walked over to the phone and called the commissary. Within minutes an empty bowl had been delivered, as well as one full of chopped beef. He waited for Jonny to emerge, which he did after awhile, his face freshly scrubbed and bearing no evidence of tear stains.

Bandit saw the food and dug into it, and Jack walked into the bathroom to fill the water bowl. When he came back out he found Jonny sitting on the bed, his good leg bent up to his chest, his arms wrapped around it.

"So, could we just skip to the explosion?" Jack said, sitting down on the chair.

The boy looked up, eyes very confused. "What explosion?"

"The anger, the grief, the pent up aggravation at the government . . . it's bound to let loose sooner or later, and I figure we might as well cut to the chase."

The boy looked at him for a minute, rolled his eyes and turned back to his brooding. "You're kind of a wacko, you know that?"

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "So I've been told."

Jonny didn't look up. He appeared to be gazing with intense concentration at his cast. "What kind of a crazy man sits there and asks someone to blow up at him?"

Jack shrugged, opting to remain silent.

"I'm not in the mood to explode right now," Jonny said, his eyes flicking up towards Jack's face.

"Well, what are you in the mood for?" Jack asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

"Not talking!" Sighing explosively, he swung his leg off the bed.

"Where you headed?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

The boy took in a deep breath and his shoulders slumped. "I don't know," he groaned, closing his eyes. "I want to _do_ something!"

Jack grimaced. "I sympathize, believe me, but there isn't much to do right now." He gave Jonny a rueful look. He didn't have anything productive to do either, apart from keeping an eye on Jonny. Somehow he didn't think Jonny would appreciate being told that. "What there is to do right now is being done."

"Like what?"

"Well, Sam's trying to identify the kind of ship that took you folks away, other than that we're waiting for the Tok'ra to contact us."

"What's Dr. Jackson doing?"

Jack shrugged. "Translating something one of the other teams brought back last week." He raised his eyebrow. "You'd better get that foot back up on the bed."

Jonny glowered but shifted so that his back was against the headboard and his injured leg was stretched out. Once again, he brought his other knee up to his chest. "I can't just sit here," he said.

"The doc said you should rest."

Jonny opened his mouth, but sighed without speaking. He rested his chin on his upraised knee. The dog came over and jumped up and, putting his paws on Jonny's shin, licked the boy on the nose. Jonny reached down with both hands and scratched his dog with a great deal of concentration.

Jack leaned back, sighing. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't think he should leave, either. The silence grew profound and awkward. Dared he go back to his reading? Would that be rude? Or would it be kinder not to be just sitting here, watching the boy's distress?

He flipped the book back open and took up again in the legends of Thoth, keeping a surreptitious eye on Jonny at the same time. It would be fair to say that he took in very little of what he was reading, but at least it kept the pretense that he wasn't sitting there watching.

Bandit started licking Jonny's cheeks earnestly, and Jonny made a muffled sniffling sound. Jack wasn't sure what to do. He didn't really know Jonny, didn't know how the boy would react to either action or inaction on his part. It seemed wrong, though, to sit reading while the kid cried on his dog.

Jack dropped the book on the floor and got up, sitting down beside Jonny on the bed, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders. Predictably, he stiffened, but Jack said, "Just pretend I'm your dad."

"I'm _not_ crying," Jonny growled, but the congestion in his voice belied his words.

"I know you're not," Jack said gently. "It's okay." After a few more moments of stiffness, Jonny relaxed and turned, burying his face in the older man's side. Jack rubbed his arm, afraid to go for a hug as possibly too constricting for Jonny to handle right now. He wanted to murmur reassurances, but having agreed that the boy _wasn't _crying, it seemed a little odd to start saying things like 'let it all out.'

Instead he sat silently holding Jonny. Bandit climbed onto his lap and leaned against his master's side. Eventually, Jonny's tears seemed to dry up, but he didn't pull away immediately. He hadn't fallen asleep, Jack was sure of that, and he wondered if Jonny was just embarrassed. Finally, the boy pulled away, scrubbing at his eyes with his hands. "Sorry," he muttered.

Jack shrugged. "Feel better?"

"I don't know," Jonny said. "I was lonely and depressed, and now I'm lonely, depressed and congested. Not sure I can win right now."

Jack snorted. "Yep, life sucks."

Jonny's mouth quirked upward into a half-grin. "Sometimes."

There was a knock at the door and Jonny pulled away sharply, rubbing hard at his face as if to erase the signs of his crying jag. Jack got up and opened the door to reveal Daniel, who rushed in. If he noticed any of the indications of Jonny's emotional state, he didn't let on, but Jack was pretty sure he had. Even when Daniel was full speed ahead on some project, he usually had some clue about the emotional states of people around him.

He nodded absently at Jack and walked over to the bed. "Jonny, you said you spoke Basque, right?" The boy nodded. "This is probably pretty archaic, but though I can puzzle out the sounds, I'm having trouble putting my finger on the meanings. If I read it aloud to you, could you tell me what you think it says?"

Jonny sniffled again, but nodded firmly. "I could try."

Jack picked up his book and sat down in his chair again, watching them over the top of the book. Daniel was pushing him very gently, keeping him focused but Jack could see that he was keeping a close eye on Jonny's stamina. They worked through the text, Jonny making suggestions about possible meanings and Daniel jotting down notes.

When they seemed to be winding down a bit, Jack said, "So what is this 'bask' thing anyway? I thought was something you did to get a tan."

Daniel looked up, his brows knit together in clear irritation, but Jonny just looked perplexed. "It's a language. One of the oldest languages in Europe."

"Then how come I've never heard of it?"

Jonny glanced at Daniel, who was still looking very dour. "Um . . . well, it's a dying language," Jonny said. "Not too many people speak it anymore."

"Why?"

Jonny shrugged. "Assimilation. There isn't a Basque country. Most of the speakers live in the mountains between France and Spain, and as modern technology intrudes further into their culture, they're gradually choosing either French or Spanish over Basque."

Jack nodded. "I see," he said, giving Jonny a grin. "But is this Basque?" he asked Daniel.

Losing some of his dubious expression, Daniel glanced down at the photograph in front of him. "It does appear to be. Certainly what Jonny and I have worked up so far makes sense."

"Cool," Jonny said. "Um . . . excuse me." He slipped to the edge of the bed, got his crutches and headed into the bathroom.

Daniel turned and glared at his commanding officer. "What's with the 'dumb colonel' act, Jack?"

Jack widened his eyes innocently. "What?"

"Don't be disingenuous," Daniel said. "I happen to know that one of your grandparents was Basque. General Hammond told me."

Jack shrugged. "I figured getting to explain something might make him feel more confident. He seemed to be a little hesitant."

"He was, but . . ." Daniel rolled his eyes. "So, is he okay?"

"He's okay," Jack replied, looking over at the closed door. "He's more than a little freaked out, and he's miserable, but what else do you expect?"

Daniel nodded. "He's been crying, though?"

Jack shook his head. "No, he hasn't – or so he told me, and we're letting it rest there." Daniel snorted. "He _didn't_ cry on me for about an hour."

"Poor kid," Daniel said. "Between the U.S. government and the Goa'uld, he's had his entire support structure yanked out from under him." He looked down at his hands and shrugged. "I don't think we're much of a replacement for it."

"No, probably not," Jack agreed. "But all we can do is our best."

Daniel crossed his arms tightly across his chest, a gesture that nearly always indicated emotional distress. "Jack, he needs something to do. This is not a kid who spends a lot of time in front of the television, and he needs something to keep his mind occupied. Giving him too much time to dwell on the situation isn't going to make things any easier for him."

"Dr. Fraiser wants him to rest."

"I'm not suggesting that he run marathons, Jack. A little light translation work is all. Or maybe drawing out the symbols on the columns he saw in the ship."

"If you think Doc Fraiser would agree, I'm all for it," Jack said.

"I'm sure Janet doesn't –" The sound of water running caused Daniel to break off. The anthropologist furrowed his brow, then lifted the receiver, dialing. "Janet?" Daniel said. "I was wondering, when you said Jonny should rest –" Jack sat back, amused as Daniel paused for several seconds. "Yes, Janet, I understand that, but –" There was another pause and Daniel rolled his eyes. Finally, he said, "If we give him nothing to do all he'll have to think about is the rotten situation he's in." Another pause. "Translation. Drawing out symbols on paper. Nothing that requires him to stand up."

Jonny came out of the bathroom, his face looking freshly scrubbed once again. Jack put a finger to his lips and nodded towards Daniel. Jonny looked over at him.

"Yes, Janet, I know. No, Janet, I won't. Don't worry, even if I was inclined to, Jack's here to keep me honest." Daniel nodded. "I know, but Jack has – right. Exactly." Now moving his free hand in a gesture that indicated impatience, he said, "So you approve? Thank you, Janet." He started to pull the phone away from his ear, but stopped, brow furrowing more deeply. "All right, Janet. Yes, I understand. I do recall the meaning of the word 'flay.' Yes, Janet." Finally, he hung up the phone and turned, grimacing at his audience. Jonny had gotten back on his bed and was watching the anthropologist curiously.

Daniel leaned against the back of his chair. "Amid protests, warnings and threats," Daniel said, "I have secured permission for you to do light work." Jonny grinned, but Daniel held up a hand. "I have, however, been ordered to tell you that you don't have to if you don't want to –"

"I want to," Jonny interrupted hastily.

Daniel chuckled and Jack had to suppress a sigh. "You have to stop if you start getting tired, and you have to stay in bed with your foot up."

Jonny's shoulders slumped, but then he shrugged. "I guess I can live with that," he said.

"Well, then, would you be willing to attempt to draw out the symbols on the columns and walls in the room you were kept in?"

"Sure," Jonny said.

"I'll just get you some paper and a lap desk, and we'll get you started." Daniel got up and then stopped. "Oh, there is one further requirement from on high."

"What's that?" Jonny asked.

"You need to take breaks for meals, Janet – Dr. Fraiser will be having trays sent up here, I guess, for the next couple of days."

Jonny sat up sharply, looking mutinous. "How long am I going to be cooped up in here?" he groaned.

"We'll do what we can," Daniel said. "Right, Jack?"

"Sure," Jack said. He sat back reflecting that Janet wasn't really thinking. Imprisoning the kid in a bedroom was a surefire way to send him stir crazy and start him thinking about ways to escape. "I've got some thoughts. Give me a while to let them percolate." Daniel eyed him suspiciously. "Run along, Danny. Aren't you supposed to be getting some paper or something?"

"Yeah, Jack . . ." Daniel said slowly, his eyes narrowing. Then he turned to Jonny. "I'll be back in a flash."

When the door was shut, Jonny looked over at Jack. "Are you two related?"

"No," Jack said, tilting his head. "Why?"

Jonny shrugged. "No reason." He looked around. "Would you grab me a pair of socks from the drawer?" he asked.

Vaguely mystified, Jack did so. Jonny quickly unrolled one from the other, tied a couple of knots in one of them and commenced playing tug-of-war with Bandit.

"You know," he said after a minute. "Even if I shouldn't go outside, Bandit could. Maybe someone could take him for walks, because he'll get as stir crazy as anyone."

Jack nodded. "I'll get that arranged." He grimaced. "Jonny, as much as this sucks, we're all just interested in your safety."

Jonny looked over at him with a weary expression that seemed very much at odds with the spirited way he was playing with his dog. "I believe you feel that way, and that Dr. Jackson does. Maybe even General Hammond. But you get any higher and they see me as a valuable commodity. Especially with my dad out reach."

Jack sighed, reflecting on some of the behavior demonstrated by Hammond's superiors in the past. "Believe it or not, I know how that works. That seems to be the government's view of the rest of my team."

Jonny rolled his eyes. "What about you?"

Jack laughed. "I'm a pain in the ass. They'd like to get rid of me."

He expected Jonny to protest, but he didn't. "Keep it up, then, whatever you're doing," the boy said. "They've been trying to get rid of Race for years."

"This would be your guardian, the Navy Seal," Jack asked.

"Ex-Navy Seal," Jonny said, grinning. "Yeah, that's Race. More formally, he's Roger Bannon."

"Roger, huh?" Jack asked. "So, how did a Navy Seal wind up . . . forgive me for being blunt . . . but how'd he wind up babysitting?"

Jonny shrugged. "I told you my mother was murdered, right?" Jack nodded. "Well, at that point my dad was pretty mad at the government. He'd asked for protection and been told that there was no real threat."

"Ouch."

"So then Dad gets called away suddenly and Mom got shot. The only reason they didn't shoot me, I think, is because I stayed down after Mom hit the ground. I-1 offered him protection then, but he refused." Jonny shook his head. "They tried to force the issue pretty hard, but he was adamant. I don't remember any of this, really, but I've heard people talking."

"So then how did you wind up with Race?"

"Well, Dad was pretty gone at that point. He was burying himself in his work, not paying a lot of attention to anyone else. We didn't have anyone as a housekeeper or anything. The house in Florida was pretty far out of the way on its own island. I fed him peanut butter sandwiches and kept the house as neat as I could, but . . ." Jonny shrugged. "The first time Phil came out to the house, he saw how things were and he offered Dad a bodyguard for me. Someone who would act as tutor and nursery maid as well as protecting me. Dad agreed."

"And this Phil guy sent you Race?"

Jonny snorted and shook his head. "No, Phil sent us Alex. He was a jerk and a twerp, and he was sent packing. Then Phil sent us Jeff. He was worse." Jonny grimaced. "I was six. My mother had just been killed, and my father was pretty far gone in grief. I was a mess, and not easy to deal with."

"What did this guy do?" Jack asked.

"It doesn't matter," Jonny said shrugging. "I know for a fact he got posted someplace nasty afterwards. Anyhow, Dad saw what was going on and called Phil. He gave him one more chance before he cut ties with I-1 altogether. That was when Race came. He – I don't know – he took care of things. Got life moving again, got Dad talking again. He has a daughter a year older than me, so he knew how to handle a kid."

"So he was an agent when he came to live with you?"

"Yeah, I guess he'd mustered out of the Navy a year or so earlier." Jonny shrugged. "Usually I-1 bodyguards have a rotation of eighteen months."

Jack nodded and spoke into the pause. "I was going to ask. I thought bodyguard shifts were a little shorter than nine years."

"Phil said later that he thought I needed some consistency. I was only seven when Race should have left, and I was pretty dependent on him." He snorted. "So was Dad, actually. His eighteen months wound up being six years. Then when I was twelve, and got kidnapped twice in one summer, they decided to transfer him to a desk job, so he quit."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "But he's still with you."

"He quit I-1 and went to work for my dad."

"Ah." Jack nodded. "I see."

"That's probably part of why it's being so hard to get him clearance. He pissed a lot of people off by ignoring his orders and just resigning. I think some of the higher ups think he has too much influence with Dad, and definitely with Hadji and me."

The door opened again and Daniel came back in. He had a folding lap desk under one arm and a pile of paper atop some files in the other. He looked at their somber expressions. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jonny said. "But that's okay. I don't want to think about it anymore."

Daniel darted a glare at Jack as if he thought Jack had been misbehaving somehow. "Well, here's the desk. There are pens and pencils inside, and –"

Jack stood up. "Daniel, I've got a couple of things I need to take care of. Why don't you stick around for a little while, okay?"

"Suuuure, Jack," Daniel said. "I was already planning on it. What are you doing?"

Jack shrugged. "Just things."

Daniel looked decidedly unsatisfied with that answer, but Jack just grinned and winked at Jonny. Then he left the room, whistling.

* * *

Jonny grinned over at Dr. Jackson. "You two really do act like brothers," he said.

"Jack and me?" Dr. Jackson said. "No we don't."

Raising his eyebrows, Jonny gave him a dubious look. "Have you ever had a brother?"

Dr. Jackson shook his head. "Still . . ."

"You two bicker like me and Hadji," Jonny said. "And you operate like Race and Dad, who are as good as brothers."

The man shrugged and put the paper down on the bedside table. Unfolding the lap desk he handed it to Jonny. He opened the top of the desk and pulled out a mechanical pencil with a fine point and an eraser. Dr. Jackson put the paper in a neat pile beside him on the bed and Jonny picked up the first sheet. Methodically, he drew a plan of the room, including all of the columns. Just as methodically, he began labeling each of the columns and identifying the columns by letter designations. "Each column had twelve flutes. Six of those contained writings." He made six little lines off each of the columns on his drawing. "I started out on each of them with my back to this wall," he said, pointing. "And I numbered the flutes in a clockwise direction." He labeled each of the six lines on each column accordingly.

"You spent a lot of time thinking about this," Dr. Jackson observed.

"I had a lot of time to spend," Jonny said shortly. "And actually, Hadji and I started working on it together before they took him."

"And you kept on with it."

"There wasn't a whole lot else to do," Jonny said, shrugging. "The hardest part was getting the ones that were above my head."

They settled down to work. Jonny got a new piece of paper, labeled it A-1 and started drawing out the symbols he remembered. Occasionally he'd skip one that wasn't as clear as it should be, but he drew a rectangle where it should go, to indicate that it wasn't a natural break in the symbols. The linguist went over to the table, opened one of his files and started writing.

It worked. Jonny was able to concentrate on the work without thinking constantly about his dad and Hadji, though thoughts of them kept intruding. He locked them down and kept drawing symbols.

Jonny was working on A-3 when he got thirsty. He put the lap desk aside and pushed to the edge of the bed. Before he even swung the cast down, though, the linguist looked up. "What are you doing, Jonny?" he asked.

"I wanted to get a drink. There's a fridge over there, I figured there might be some soda."

"I'll get it," the man said, getting up.

Jonny looked at the ceiling, letting out an exasperated sigh. "It isn't that far, Dr. Jackson."

"Call me Daniel," the linguist said. "And I know you can do it, but I'd like to keep my skin all in one piece. Janet's a lovely woman, but she has laid down firm guidelines and made threats should I fail to carry them out."

Jonny rolled his eyes but shifted back to his previous position. Dr. Ja– Daniel stood up with a Coke in one hand and a packet of some kind in the other. "This appears to be goodies," he said, bringing it over to the bed.

Jonny took the Coke and put it on the lap desk. Then he set the papers and writing implements aside and took the packet in both hands. It was wrapped in tin foil. Setting it down on the lap desk, he opened it carefully.

The first thing he saw was a paper towel with writing on it. Jessie's writing. "I couldn't decide which you'd rather have – a letter from me or Mrs. Evans' cookies. Guess which won. Jess." There was a quickly drawn happy face and that was all. Jonny bit his lip and pulled the package all the way open. Jessie'd packed some of all of Jonny's favorites.

He drew in a breath through his nose that sounded alarmingly like a sniffle, but got control of himself quickly. "It's from Jessie," he said aloud, pleased that his voice was steady.

Dr. Jackson had an air about him that said very clearly that he knew just how upset Jonny was and how precarious the act he was putting on to keep from crying. Unlike Colonel O'Neill, however, he didn't seem determined to push Jonny out of the act. "And Jessie is?" he asked.

"Race's daughter. She lives with us, has since I was twelve." Jonny opened up the little baggy full of chocolate chip cookies. "Want one?"

Daniel took one of the cookies and smiled down. "She must be a very good friend. How old is she?"

"Sixteen. She's probably going nuts." Jonny bit his lip again. Talking about Jessie wasn't the way to keep from crying. "So, Daniel, what are you working on?"

"It's a document, no more that twenty years old, written in cuneiform."

"Really?" Jonny craned his neck. "I read a little cuneiform. I was just learning when . . ." He cleared his throat. "But it's only twenty years old? And not on stone? How is that possible?"

"Well, it's not exactly cuneiform. It's a derivative of cuneiform. As if people were taken from ancient Sumerian and transplanted on another world, and then their language continued to develop in that direction. It makes translation a bit more complicated, because naturally the symbols have altered somewhat, and I think this is sort of a cursive form rather than the more formal writing we see in stone on Earth."

"Of course," Jonny said, fascinated. "Of course, if they're writing on paper or even parchment, the lines would be much easier to make and so they would slip into less rigid patterns."

"Precisely."

"Like Egyptian hieratic rather than the hieroglyphs."

Daniel tilted his head in an uncertain gesture. "Possibly," he said. "But not necessarily. I've seen some interesting developments of ancient languages in my time here. You have to be careful making assumptions."

Jonny nodded. "Can I see it, though?"

"After we're done eating," Daniel said. "This may not be a regularly scheduled meal break, and that's a copy, not the original, but still."

"Rules?" Jonny asked. Daniel nodded. "I understand rules. Believe me."

"I'll bet you do," Dr. Jackson said, giving him a small smile that nevertheless conveyed loads of amusement. "If only so that you know how to circumvent them." Jonny shrugged, contriving to look innocent, and Dr. Jackson laughed. "Well, when we're done, I'll bring it over and show you what I've got so far. Does that work for you?"

"It means I'm not going to offer you another cookie," Jonny pointed out, wrapping up his care package again, keeping the note on the desk.

"I'll have to muddle through, I guess," Daniel said, chuckling.

Jonny chomped on his own cookie, reflecting that if he had to be stuck somewhere without anyone else, here was a better place than most.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Dad!" Race looked up from where he had unplugged the connection between Jessie's computer and the house network. His daughter looked absolutely furious. "What are you doing?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to do this research, Ponchita?"

"We need to find Jonny, Hadji and Dr. Quest! Why won't you let me look?"

Race shook his head and leaned against the wall. He understood his daughter's feelings on this, but he also knew that there was no way they'd be permitted in to see Jonny if there was evidence that they'd been trying to break into military computers. "Sweetheart, this isn't Zin, Surd or one of our usual villains, and we can't treat it as if it were."

"Why not?" Jessie demanded. "They're keeping us away from Jonny! That strikes me as pretty damned villainous."

"They have reasons, Jess, and even if I don't know what they are, that doesn't mean they aren't good reasons."

"Why wouldn't they tell you, though?" Jessie asked. "You're his guardian. They have to tell you."

Race didn't have an answer for that question, so he pushed away from the wall and walked towards the door. "All I can tell you, Jessie, is that if the military catch you breaking into their computer system, they won't be impressed, and they will drop us to a lower classification level." She glared at him stubbornly. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on. "Jess, all the times in the past when you've broken into government computer systems, you've had the tacit permission of I-1." Once or twice Phil had taken some pretty heavy heat for that permission, but things had always come out right in the end. "Now you don't, and it makes a huge difference."

"Dad, Jonny's somewhere in the bureaucracy, and God only knows where Dr. Quest and Hadji are," Jessie said, her face crumpling. "We've got to do something."

Race knelt by the chair and hugged her tightly. "I know how you feel, Ponchita, I do. Believe me, but I am doing something. I'm letting Phil work on getting us clearance. Unhindered and uninterrupted."

"It isn't enough," Jessie groaned into his shoulder.

"Write a letter to Jonny. I've got one ready to go, and I'm only waiting on you to send it."

"Writing a letter isn't going to bring him home," Jessie growled.

"You're right, but it might help him cope better with whatever is going on."

"I –" She broke off, looking frustrated.

Race stood up and took her by the hand, pulling her out of her chair. He led her down the stairs and into the living room of the house, where they all usually spent their evenings. As he led her towards a sofa, she pulled away and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"I don't understand you!" she yelled. "Why are you doing this? Dr. Quest would be searching for you and me if this was reversed!"

Race rocked back on his heels, shaken by the attack. "Ponchita –"

"He would! And here we are, sitting on our asses doing nothing!"

"We are not doing nothing, Jessie. We're doing –"

"Waiting is not doing anything! Waiting is not going to figure out where Jonny's being kept!"

"But waiting might get us in to see Jonny, which is important." He took in a deep breath and sighed, sitting down. "I know where he is, Ponchita."

She took in a deep breath to yell again, but then she stopped dead. "You do? Where is he?"

"Come here and sit down with me, okay? No more yelling."

She sat down, looking mystified. "If you know where he is, why haven't you told me?"

"I don't know his actual physical location."

"Then what the hell do you mean?"

"He's at a high security, ultra top secret military installation with a very short 'need to know' list. The only way to penetrate that level of security is to go through channels. We don't go through the proper channels, we never get in. It's that simple."

"I don't want to get in!" Jessie growled. "I want to get Jonny out!"

He sighed, and squeezed her hand. "Jess, he's not coming home for awhile. I don't know exactly what's going on, but I was told that much. This isn't a situation where you finding him is going to make the difference between his being kept or being sent home. You finding him might just endanger him more."

"If he's in danger, then he needs us," Jessie said pleadingly. "I have to –"

"Jessica Luisa Bannon!" She stiffened and broke off. "I very seldom give direct orders, but I'm giving you one now. You will not continue this search for Jonny, Hadji and Benton." She nodded, but her eyes welled up. He put an arm around her shoulders. "It isn't out of a lack of caring, Jess. I just –"

She pulled away and ran out of the room. He went after her, but she shut herself into her bedroom. He knocked, and after a few moments, she yelled, "Leave me alone! I already agreed, so just leave me alone!"

"Jessie!"

"I don't want to talk right now!"

"All right," he said, thumping his head against the door. "I'll go make dinner." He went downstairs into the kitchen and sat down at the table, dropping his head into his hands. The table was not the one that had originally stood there. That one had been burned three years back when it proved impossible to get Jonny's blood out of it. So many things had happened to this family, and Race was as upset as Jessie about being excluded from this latest crisis. He just knew that there were things they couldn't afford to do, and pissing the military off while they still had Jonny in their custody was on that list.

After a few moments, he got up and went to the phone. Picking it up, he dialed and waited through the rings. Finally, there was an answer, but he bit off a curse as the message started. "You have reached the voice mail of Dr. Estella Velasquez. I'm either away from my phone or out of range. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

After the tone, he said, "Stell, give me a call as soon as you get this. It's urgent. I need you. Jessie needs you." Then he hung up and started some pasta boiling.

* * *

Jack walked into the infirmary just in time to see Dr. Fraiser giving Perkins an exam. He had one hell of a bruise on his ribcage, and Jack was glad Jonny couldn't see it. The doc looked up when he came in, but she ignored him so he walked over to the door to her office and leaned against the frame and waited. She gave Perkins a thorough exam that had even Jack wincing a couple of times, then rewrapped the injury and sent the orderly on his way again.

When he was gone, Doctor Fraiser turned to Jack and said, "Yes, Colonel?"

"Can I talk to you?" He tilted his head toward the office. "In here?"

Looking dubious, she walked in ahead of him and he shut the door behind them. "What is it, Colonel?"

"What exactly is your concern about Jonny's activities?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't want him to overdo. I can just tell he's the type like you, who will test any limits I set for him, and so I'm setting the limits pretty high."

Jack grimaced and looked down at his hands for a moment. Then he looked up. "Can I be completely frank with you, doc?"

"Of course," she said, looking perturbed. "Aren't you always?"

"Okay, can I be frank to the point of rudeness?" She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand and said, "Don't say it."

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "What do you have on your mind, Colonel?"

"I think this is possibly the stupidest thing you could do to Jonny right now short of actually putting him in a holding cell."

Her eyebrows climbed. "That is pretty blunt. What do you mean?"

"He's spent a week in confinement, three of those days in total isolation. Now you're isolating him again. I mean, talking about sending his food to him in his room . . . he won't even get out to eat. I understand that you're worried that he'll hurt himself, but surely with the cast he'll be okay."

"Colonel, I don't want to isolate him," Dr. Fraiser said earnestly. "I just want to see that he spends time resting, with his foot up. He can't do that on a tour of the base, or working in a lab." She took in a deep breath. "Besides, I'm also thinking of his mental state. He's kind of a curiosity on base right now. For one thing he's famous, for another, everyone knows he just came through the Stargate and his family's been left behind. You know people are going to be curious, and he doesn't need to be exposed to that too much right now. The trauma's still too fresh."

Jack shook his head. "Daniel could speak to that better than I could, doc, but I can make one suggestion. We could set up a chair in Daniel's office tomorrow, something with a footrest. It's not like Daniel's office is a hub of activity, but it's a public room, the door's usually open, and people do come in and out. It will probably seem more normal to Jonny, and it will allow Daniel to keep an eye on him while still getting his normal work done."

"That still leaves people who are curious –" she started but Jack shook his head. She stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Yes? Do you have an answer to that, too?"

"Do you really think people are going to be asking idle questions with Daniel there, doc? For one thing, he's pretty formidable on his own turf." Fraiser nodded, and Jack kept going, taking full advantage of her continued silence. "And he's been through this. Most of the guys here know that, and any question they put to Jonny has the chance of bringing up old wounds for Daniel as well."

Fraiser steepled her hands, looking thoughtful. Jack waited impatiently, but knew he'd made his points. If he said anything else, that might jeopardize his arguments completely. He was teetering on the verge of saying something more when she finally spoke. "All right, you've convinced me. But I'll tell you what I told Daniel."

"Yeah, I know." He stood up. "Flayed, filleted, sauteed. I've got to go." Her eyes widened with clear irritation. "We don't have any dog food," he explained, then left quickly before she could launch into her lecture. He checked in with Hammond to let him know that he was leaving the facility, and then went to his truck.

He swung by his house, picked up the suitcase he always kept packed, checked his mail and his messages, then headed to Wal-Mart. He looked at the wide array of dog food on the aisle, briefly stymied, then picked up his cell phone and called the base. He got the switchboard to patch him through to Daniel.

"Yeah, Jack?"

"What kind of dog food do I need?" he asked.

"What kind of – what?"

"Ask. What kind of dog food should I be getting?"

"Surely there's already dog food here."

"Nope. So ask, would you?"

There was a brief muttering that he could barely hear, then Daniel came back. "He says Science Diet."

Jack scanned the shelves and came up empty. "Where do I find that? Wal-Mart doesn't have it."

"I don't know, Jack."

"You could try asking, Daniel."

There was another pause full of incomprehensible muttering, then Daniel came back and said, "You have to go to pet specialty stores, I guess. I didn't know you'd gone off base."

"Sorry. Oh, by the way, I got the doc to agree to let him come to your office tomorrow. We've just got to get a chair in there that will allow him to put his foot up."

"Not a problem." Daniel paused and Jack could almost see the incredulous look on his face. "Wait, you did what?"

"I talked to Fraiser. It was no big deal. Well, I'd better get out of here. See you when I get back." He hung up the phone on some form of expostulation and left the Wal-Mart in search of a pet food store. Finding a PetsMart, he went in and looked around. Before long, he had a cart half full of useful objects. Bandit would naturally need a bed and toys, cute little food and water bowls, dog biscuits, a fake bone, a snazzy little set of doggy fatigues. At the register he realized suddenly that he didn't have any dog food and had to rush back to the shelves to grab some.

Then he swung back by Wal-Mart and picked up a few things for Jonny. It made for quite an awkward load to carry into the facility when he got back. He left his suitcase in his truck for later and trekked in with the dog bed under one arm, and a plethora of plastic bags in his hands. He got an odd look from the guard, who made him dig out his pass despite the fact that he hadn't been gone more than three hours. Gathering up his purchases again, he went on and ran into Sam in the elevator.

"What on earth . . ." Sam started. Then she seemed to recognize the dog bed under his arm. "Ah, for Jonny and his dog?"

"No, I thought General Hammond was looking like he needed something to lie down in between meetings," Jack growled.

"I was just heading over there. Do you need a hand?"

"Sure, that'd be nice."

She took a couple of the bags out of his hand and got off the elevator with him. "Did General Hammond ask you to do this?"

He shrugged. "Somebody forgot to get dog food," he said. "I just went and got some."

"I see." She was smirking in that way she had of covertly laughing at him.

"Well, I saw a couple of other things that I thought might come in handy," he said, glaring. "You got a problem with that?"

"No, sir," she said, her smirk broadening into a smile. "It's really nice of you."

"You can't leave a dog without food," Jack declared.

"No, of course not," she said. "Or squeaky balls, or plastic bones, or . . ."

"Major," he said warningly. She grinned at him unrepentantly and opened the door for him. Jonny and Daniel were bent over something on Jonny's lap desk, and they both looked up, eyes widening.

"I picked up a few things," Jack said lamely.

Jonny's face blossomed as he grinned hugely. "Wow. That's great, Colonel O'Neill."

"It's Jack," O'Neill said, grinning back.

Daniel stood up and relieved Jack of the rest of the bags. "So, Jonny," Jack asked, "where do you want the bed?"

"In Daniel's office, tomorrow," Jonny said. "He'll sleep up here with me tonight."

"Okay," Jack said. Daniel had walked over and deposited the bags on the bed and Jonny was rummaging through them. At this announcement that the dog would be accompanying Jonny to his office, Daniel shot Jack a look but didn't say anything.

Jonny dragged out the dog toys and grinned, then reached for another bag. He looked at the baseball and mitt with some perplexity. "I thought I wasn't going outside," he said.

"You've seen The Great Escape, haven't you?" Jack asked.

"Ah," Jonny said, nodding. "Steve McQueen. The Cooler King."

"Right." Jack straightened his back. "I just picked up a few things I thought you could use."

"Well, thanks," Jonny replied. "So, am I having company for dinner tonight?" He grinned up at all of them. "I have no idea what we're having."

"Beans and wieners, I believe," Jack said.

"Jack!" Daniel exclaimed. "There's usually a little more choice than that. Let me call the commissary."

Jonny shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I just – are you all going to stay? Dr. Carter?" The little smile he threw Carter's direction was almost transparent. It was clear that Jonny had the beginnings of a crush. Jack wondered if Carter had picked up on it yet.

"You can call me Sam, Jonny. And sure, I'll stay." She smiled at Jonny, and the way he brightened should have been a hint, but Carter was notoriously dense about such things. Daniel caught Jack's eye with an amused wink, though.

"Cool," Jonny said.

"They've got ham, tuna casserole and vegetarian lasagna tonight," Daniel said. "Orders?"

"Are we going to invite Teal'c?" Jack asked.

"Sure," Jonny said, his enthusiasm for the notion of having dinner with an alien easily overwhelming his incipient crush on Carter.

They placed their orders, then Daniel called Teal'c. When they were all there and the food had been delivered, they were a bit stuck on the seating arrangements. Jonny couldn't sit at the table, which wasn't really big enough for five at any rate. Jack settled on the bed beside Jonny while the others took the chairs that were in the room, gathering them around the bed.

It was an odd meal. One might have expected Jonny to pepper Teal'c with questions, but the boy seemed oddly shy and Teal'c, as always, was reserved. That left Daniel, Sam and Jack to talk, which they did, after a fashion, discussing the work they'd been doing. Since Jack's onworld work was primarily involved in planning for the next offworld mission, that wound up meaning that Sam and Daniel talked. Jonny proffered occasional questions, but didn't say much.

Before sitting down, Jack had put Bandit's new bowls over by the bathroom door and put food in one of them. The dog had smelled the food, tasted it, then came back over to the bed to hop on and be admired by the large group of people who had arrived. Teal'c seemed particularly fascinated by the little dog and Jack found himself thinking unexpected thoughts. Teal'c was awfully alone much of the time . . .

Jack extracted a small piece of tuna from his plate and slipped it to the dog while he was petting him. He grinned when this made the little dog very attentive. He pulled out some other small bits and passed them surreptitiously to the dog.

"Colonel!" exclaimed Sam as Bandit took the last niblet of tuna from his fingers.

"Major?" Jack replied, looking at her innocently.

"You probably shouldn't feed him from your plate," she said, looking at the way the dog was gazing hopefully at Jack.

Jonny laughed. "He likes ham, too, Major Carter," the boy said.

Sam opened her mouth and then gave an embarrassed chuckle and didn't respond.

"So, Jonny, do you take Bandit with you everywhere you go?" Daniel asked.

Jonny nodded. "Pretty much. The Corporation even took him when they took Dad and me," he said. "So he's been all over the world, now."

"This Corporation took your dog?" Jack asked. "Why?"

The boy shrugged. "We were supposed to acclimate," he said. "They brought all our stuff with us, too, or at least all our stuff that they approved of and that wasn't destroyed in the EM pulse they used to knock out the security systems."

"Wow," Sam said.

"There's nothing quite as bizarre as coming into a room you've never seen before that has your own stuff scattered around. They'd put my posters on the walls, my clothes in the dressers, even the book I was reading was on the bedside table. It was creepy beyond words."

Jack looked over at the dresser at the photographs gathered on the top. Jonny had gone straight to them when he'd come in. "Your pictures?" he asked, nodding in that direction.

Jonny gave him a tight smile. "Sort of. There were pictures of me, my dad, Hadji and my mom, my paternal grandparents . . . Everyone else was missing." He made a sour face. "Basically, there were pictures of people they planned to bring in or people who were dead. Photos of anyone they planned for us never to see again were just left behind."

"Charming," Jack said. No wonder the kid had examined the pictures instantly. It must have felt rather alarming to see them there.

"Not really, no," Jonny said.

"What did these abductors want with you and your father?" Teal'c asked.

Jonny looked over at him and bit his lip. "They wanted Dad to work for them. See, the Corporation does a lot of research and development of technology, very borderline stuff. Things that are hard to get grants for or that are illegal in most countries. People pay them to produce this stuff, and so they need good scientific minds."

Sam tilted her head. "But then where do they get these minds? How do they find enough people who are willing to work outside the pale like that?"

Jonny opened his mouth, and then closed it again, looking thoughtful. Then his eyes widened with something akin to alarm. "Shit," he said feelingly.

"I beg your pardon?" Jack said.

Jonny flushed, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't mean –"

Jack shook his head. "No, not about the language. What prompted that?"

The boy grimaced, looking at Sam and Daniel. "It just occurred to me, you guys are prime targets. Not so much you, Major Carter, as Dr. Jackson."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

Daniel looked taken aback. "Yes, what do you mean?"

Jonny started enumerating points on his fingers. "Brilliant scientist, fallen from grace, fallen from the public eye, and not apparently living up to his potential." He looked around at all of them. "See, Dad was _not_ a prime target. They grabbed him because they needed some stuff done quickly, and according to the early stuff they told us, we were going to be let go as soon as Dad had completed his work." He shook his head. "Something changed while we were there, I think, and they decided to keep us. I'm not really sure what. Dad doesn't talk about it."

"I don't understand," Jack said. "Not living up to his potential?"

Jonny took in a deep breath and let it out explosively. "They grab people who are on the fringes of the scientific community, people who are brilliant but unrecognized. The biggest thing that makes Daniel not a target is that he doesn't have any hostages." He pursed his lips. "Their general M.O. is to take families where the parents are well educated, extremely bright, but not succeeding for whatever reason. They only take families with children, because they can use the children as leverage to get the parents to cooperate. Because, as I understand it, most of their operations are on islands, the people they take have no real options. It's either cooperate or watch your children get hurt and die, and then die yourselves."

"So that's why you got so badly hurt," Sam said. "Your father wouldn't cooperate."

"No, I got so badly hurt because they inadvertently put a psychopathic sadist in charge of us," Jonny said. "What happened to me is not normal. Dad cooperated, but Crandall was a loon." He shrugged. "Probably all of your people are pretty good candidates from the corporation's point of view. That's undoubtedly why Dr. Fraiser was briefed on it. Your work is so top secret that they've created the illusion that you're doing something else top secret to cover for it. Something that a lot of you probably wouldn't be involved in, no doubt, knowing our government."

"True," Sam said. Jack looked at Daniel who was looking highly discomfited.

"And . . . I don't know about Major Carter, but . . ." He looked over at Daniel. "They'd rather you had a wife and kids, or even just kids, but the fact that you don't have any other . . . um . . ."

"No family," Daniel finished for him. "No one except Nick."

Jonny nodded. "And he's not exactly in a position to initiate a search," the boy said apologetically.

"You don't know the half of it," Daniel said, and Jack thought of Daniel's grandfather on the planet with his 'giant aliens.'

"Actually, he might," Jack said. "If he noticed." Sam and Teal'c both flinched and glared at him, and Jack grimaced. "Um . . sorry," he said to Daniel.

"No, that would be key," Daniel said in the exceptionally calm voice he always used when talking about Nick. "He'd have to notice, and I sincerely doubt he even remembers I'm alive right now."

Jonny looked perplexed, but he just shook his head. "Anyway, Dr. Jackson would be a prime target if he had kids."

"Why is this permitted to continue?" Teal'c asked.

Jonny shrugged. "They're kind of difficult to locate," he said. "The government is trying to stop them, but it's hard, especially because they operate in multiple national territories and outside national boundaries."

Teal'c looked thoughtful. "Even after five years here, I am not yet used to living on a planet that is not ruled by a single government."

"That would be weird," Jonny said. "Was the culture the same across the whole of your planet?"

"It was," Teal'c said. "It is, though things have shifted somewhat since Apophis died."

"Apophis?" Jonny asked. Jack opened his mouth to answer the implied question but Jonny went on before he could speak. "The god of night? Of darkness and unbeing? The enemy of Re?"

"Ra," Teal'c said. "I fought the warriors of Ra many times before he was killed."

Jonny blinked. "Ra?" he said. General Hammond had something about this. Jonny was having trouble keeping track of all the details because he was getting them so piecemeal. "As in the god of the day? As in . . ." He shook his head, still staring at Teal'c. "You say he's dead? As in, he was once alive?"

"He was," Teal'c said. "But he has been killed."

The boy's face was almost devoid of expression. "He was killed?"

"Yup," Jack said cheerfully.

Jonny swiveled his head to look at Jack, then turned to Daniel, who nodded. "Yes, he was killed. We set off a nuclear bomb on his ship." Daniel grimaced. "He was the first Goa'uld we ran into, when we first activated the stargate six years ago."

"So . . ." Jonny bit his lip. "Just how many of the religions of ancient cultures were centered around aliens pretending to be gods?"

Daniel looked uncomfortable. "The religions were not so much built around aliens as the aliens took over existing religions and adapted them to suit their needs."

"Opportunists, huh?" Jonny asked.

"They are opportunistic, parasitic scavengers," Daniel said. "And they're not very nice."

"Ya think?" Jack exclaimed.

"So how many of the ancient gods were impersonated by aliens?" Jonny asked. "And how many of them are still alive?"

Jack shrugged and looked at Daniel, who seemed troubled.

"It's probably impossible to say for certain," Sam said. "We haven't met all the Goa'uld, and though there are young ones, we do keep running into new ancient gods." She rolled her eyes sourly at the oxymoron.

Daniel cleared his throat. "It seems that most of the Egyptian gods were Goa'uld, as were some of the Chinese. We have run into references to Mayan, Aztec, Celtic and Greek gods that were also impersonated by Goa'uld."

"So who all have you killed?" Jonny asked.

"Well, let's see," Daniel said. "Feel free to jump in if I miss any, guys. There was Ra, Apophis, Set, Hathor, Sokar, Cronos . . . um . . . Isis is dead, though we didn't kill her."

"Wow," Jonny said, looking thunderstruck. "So is this host thing a once only deal, or can they take one after another?"

"Typically, they keep the same host for the long term," Daniel said. "But the Tok'ra take new hosts when the old one dies, if there is a willing host available."

Teal'c sat up. "I have just remembered something Apophis once said concerning Thoth."

"Have you?" Daniel asked.

"Maybe now isn't the time," Sam suggested.

Jonny said, "What have you remembered?" They all stopped speaking, all the adults looking at Jonny. The boy straightened his back, putting his now-empty plate aside. "I have a right to know," he said.

Jack gave him a searching look, then sighed and gestured for Teal'c to go on. The Jaffa nodded and pursed his lips briefly. "He said that Thoth rarely looked the same twice, that he was known for taking new hosts at frequent intervals. Apophis considered it a weakness."

"Why would he do that?" Jack asked.

"I do not know," Teal'c said.

Daniel had an intensely thoughtful expression, and Jonny seemed to notice it. "What are you thinking, Dr. Jackson?" the boy asked.

"Call me Daniel, Jonny," the linguist said.

Jonny crossed his arms. "Okay, but what are you thinking?"

"You're not going to be distracted, are you?" Daniel asked, and Jonny just gave him a level look. The boy was startlingly mature given his age. Daniel sighed, and looked around at all of them. "We know that the Goa'uld has access to the host's mind and memories, and Thoth was the god of knowledge and wisdom."

Sam's eyes widened. "You think Thoth sought out many hosts in order to broaden his knowledge base?"

Daniel's lips tightened. "I think it's certainly possible. It would be easier to guess if we had any idea who his previous hosts were, but . . ." He shrugged.

"Wait, are you saying that Thoth didn't just put some other Goa'uld into Dr. Quest, but actually took him as his own host?" Jack asked, more than a little stunned. Daniel nodded, looking very unhappy with the possibility.

Jonny was staring forward, seeming lost in another world, but when he spoke his voice was very much in the here and now. "So you think that it was Thoth who hit me. That the ancient Egyptian god Thoth has possessed my father."

"Seeking knowledge and wisdom," Teal'c added.

"Not a god, Jonny, an alien –"

"I didn't mean literally," Jonny said, his voice grown harsh. "So, what does he do with his hosts when he's finished with them?" The boy's eyes glittered dangerously. "And who did he put in Hadji and why?"

"Those are good questions," Jack said into the silence that followed Jonny's words. "And I don't think we have any answers. Not yet, anyway."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Jonny didn't like the lack of answers. After they had all eaten, the group broke up. Teal'c headed off to his own room, and Jonny wondered what that was like. How had the alien personalized his quarters? Major Carter – Sam – gave Jonny a kiss on the cheek that made his gut quiver oddly, and then said she was going back to work for awhile.

Then Daniel and Jack looked at each other, and Jonny glared up at the both of them. "I've been having these nightmares for three years now. I can handle them on my own. In fact, from last night's performance, you'd probably be safer if you let me manage it on my own."

"Not gonna happen, Jonny," Jack said, and he thumped his head back against the headboard. Then he scooted to the edge of the bed and glared at their questioning looks. Pulling his crutches into position, he went over to his dresser and pulled out his pajamas. Then he went into the bathroom to do his bedtime preparations. It probably wasn't as late as it felt, but he knew from long experience that a person healed faster if they got enough sleep.

When he emerged, he found Jack setting up a cot up against the wall. Daniel was arguing with him, Jonny thought, but they broke off when he came out. Rolling his eyes, he crutched back over to the bed and flipped back the covers. Ignoring both of them ostentatiously, he climbed into bed and patted the spot next to him for Bandit, who hopped up and started licking him on the face. Jonny scratched his dog, looking surreptitiously over at Jack and Daniel who, speaking in very low voices, were continuing the argument they'd been having.

Though he was tired and he was ready for bed, Jonny wasn't quite ready to go to sleep, so he picked up his project and settled the lap desk over his legs again and started working.

"Fine!" Daniel said finally, and Jonny looked over, eyebrows raised. "I mean, um . . ." Daniel flushed, then walked over to the bed. "Good night, Jonny," he said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"We'll meet you in the commissary around 0730 tomorrow," Jack said. "If that's okay with you, Jonny."

"That's fine," Jonny said. "But I really don't need a babysitter, and I can set an alarm for myself."

"I know," Jack said, then he settled down with a book on Egyptian mythology. Daniel nodded and left the room, and Jonny sat fuming for a few moments, then decided he should just ignore them. He couldn't stop them from sticking around.

_Race would never leave me alone if he were here,_ he thought. Jonny closed his eyes, grimacing. _But Race isn't here, and isn't coming . . ._

He sniffled, then rigidly controlled himself. He'd been enough of a baby on Jack already today, and he wasn't about to do it again. He worked for about an hour longer and then put the papers aside. His eyes were burning and his head had begun to hurt, so he curled up on his side and went to sleep.

* * *

Hadji wasn't certain how many days had passed since this creature had been placed inside him . . . since he'd been in constant battle for his mind and body with an invader. It wasn't a month yet, of that he was sure, but a week? Perhaps. Two weeks? He didn't think so, but he didn't know. He'd spent almost all of the time in meditation, attempting to quiet the intruder.

Thus he sat in the middle of the floor in the huge room that he and Klorel had been given, legs crossed, eyes closed, and, for now at least, Klorel was silent. Hadji wasn't certain how long that state of affairs would last, though he hoped it would be permanent. Klorel was an arrogant, whiny idiot.

Tentatively, he stood. He had not done anything besides eat what he was given, meditate and take care of urgent physical needs since he had been saddled with this parasitical organism. Now he was going to take stock of his situation, hoping that the monster would stay quiet while he did so.

Klorel didn't wake when he stood, and remained quiescent while Hadji walked around the walls of the room. They were covered in symbols, mostly praising the generosity and nobility and wisdom of the great god Thoth. Hadji found that he could read them, and suspected that Klorel's presence in his mind had something to do with that.

There were only three doors, one led to the sanitary facilities, but the other two were locked. There was no exit from this room. Hadji made a desultory effort at figuring out the control panels to the sides of the doors, but they clearly required a code that neither Hadji nor Klorel possessed. Since Thoth did not seem to know that Hadji was in the equation, it seemed that Klorel was a prisoner.

He was still examining one of the locked doors when the other one opened directly behind him. He whirled, and in the midst of his surprise at the sudden sound, Klorel surged forward and took control of the body. Two men entered, both Jaffa. They carried staffs that Hadji knew were energy weapons of a serious nature, so even if he hadn't been a prisoner his own body, he wouldn't have been able to fight his way free.

Klorel lifted his chin arrogantly at the Jaffa, and Hadji sensed that he considered them to be inferior creatures. He spoke to the creature that inhabited his mind. _"Do not anger them," _he advised.

"_Be silent!"_

"_They do not seem like people to be trifled with,"_ Hadji observed.

"_They will not harm me – they know their place,"_ Klorel snapped.

"_It is possible to cause distress without causing harm,"_ Hadji said. _"It is well not to anger people unnecessarily."_

Klorel did not reply, but neither did he behave offensively towards the Jaffa. They were led into a broad hallway. Hadji wished he could look around, but Klorel was keeping his eyes forward, effectively putting blinders on Hadji. He remained silent, not wishing to aggravate the unwanted visitor in his body sufficiently to edge him into folly.

They entered another large room. To Hadji's left, there was a vast viewport that let out onto space. To his right stood a desk behind which sat the creature that inhabited his father's body. It was very odd, very discomfiting, to see a different intelligence residing behind those hazel eyes.

"Come, Klorel," said Thoth. He gestured at a chair across from the desk. "Sit. It is past time that you began repaying me for my generosity."

Resentment flared in Klorel, but he walked docilely over and sat down. Hadji could tell that he found Thoth's treatment to be less than generous. "How may I serve you, my lord?"

"Tell me of your first host's dealings with the Tau'ri, Dr. Daniel Jackson and Colonel Jack O'Neill," Thoth said, his eyes fixed to Klorel's.

"He knew them both well," Klorel said while Hadji found himself thrown into shocked confusion. He had met both those men in the past, when they had come to speak with his father. In fact, Colonel O'Neill had played with them for a couple of hours while their father had finished up a project. How had either man become acquainted with an alien creature lodged in the mind of an alien boy?

"That much I know," Thoth said with very obvious patience. "Or you would not be here."

Klorel flinched internally at the tone and decided quite unexpectedly on honesty. "I do not understand what you wish to know, my lord."

Thoth nodded, looking pensive. The expression was so like Benton's that Hadji's heart ached. He sensed a bubble of amusement from Klorel at his reaction. Hadji locked down his reaction, controlling himself firmly, attempting to keep their emotions from mingling so completely. Then Thoth spoke, distracting him.

"They are leaders among the Tau'ri," Thoth said. "Together, with the help of the rest of their team, they have destroyed many of our brethren. None of those who have thus far been lost are of much consequence, but by the sheer numbers of Goa'uld that they have killed, the Tau'ri have proven that they are a threat. However, if they lose these two, it will damage their ability to continue."

"So you wish to kill them!" Klorel exclaimed in bitter glee. "I too –"

Thoth rose. "No, Klorel, I do not wish to kill them. I wish to capture them. And when I do, I will take each on in turn and scour them of their knowledge. Then I shall most likely return to this body, for the scope of this host's mind pleases me."

_You cannot have it!_ Hadji growled internally, but he kept the thought so deep that there wasn't even a ripple in Klorel's consciousness.

"So, what I need from you, Klorel, is an idea of their weaknesses. What means could I use to trap them?"

Klorel considered this, while Hadji tried to think of ways he could sabotage this plan. "They are soft-hearted fools," Klorel said finally. "If you threaten to harm someone else, they will give their own lives in the attempt to stop you."

Thoth gazed at Klorel for a long moment. "Someone else," he repeated. "That is very vague. Do you mean that they would sacrifice themselves for anyone, or are there criteria?"

Klorel shrugged. "The criteria seem to be very encompassing, my lord," he said. "They might sacrifice much to save me for example, though they hate me as much as I hate them, in the hopes of rescuing the host."

"Do they know this host?" Thoth asked, his eyes gleaming. Hadji was confused. If Thoth had access to Benton Quest's memories, then surely he knew the answer to that question.

Klorel hesitated, and it was in that moment that Hadji realized that the alien did not have the full access to Hadji's mind that Thoth clearly expected he would. This was a test. A test Klorel was certain to fail. "That makes no difference," Klorel temporized, showing cleverness Hadji would not have expected from him. Or perhaps it was not so much cleverness as self-preservation. "The host is an innocent human boy – they would wish to free him from my influence and grant him his life."

"They have not made such efforts on behalf of all hosts, Klorel." Thoth raised an eyebrow. "More than one has simply been killed to destroy the Goa'uld within, including the spouse of Daniel Jackson." Memories from the mind of Klorel, memories of a boy called Skaara, told him that Dr. Jackson had once been married to Skaara's sister. "And you have not answered my question."

"Do they know this host?" Klorel repeated as if for clarification, and Hadji felt the stirrings of panic in the monster's mind. It occurred to him suddenly that being found out too soon might not serve him any more than it would serve Klorel. He needed free access to the ship, and only Klorel could achieve that.

"_I will give you the answer if you promise to cooperate,"_ Hadji said to Klorel quickly.

"_What?"_ Klorel sounded desperate.

"_You haven't much time before Thoth begins to grow –"_

"_I agree!"_ Klorel snapped. _"Tell me."_

Hadji felt satisfaction simmering deep within him. _"I have met both of those men once,"_ he replied. _"I know neither one well, but I was a child when each of them met me."_

Klorel passed on that information then volunteered something more. "Perhaps you could use me – they have no reason to suspect this host is anything more than the boy they know." Rage flared in Hadji, painfully allied with hope. If Thoth used Klorel as bait for Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill, Hadji might stand a chance of warning them or even of escaping with them.

Thoth shook his head. "They will know by now, of a certainty." Confusion filled both the minds that dwelt within Hadji's body. "But your current host's knowledge will serve me well when I seek to recapture the boy that escaped."

"Recapture?" Klorel repeated in bafflement. Hadji felt an even greater hope stir, coupled with dread.

"He escaped to the Tau'ri," Thoth said. "I do not know by what means he learned the function of the rings, but however that was achieved, he escaped and found refuge with a team from the Tau'ri."

Hadji discovered abruptly that enormous relief was nearly as debilitating as total despair. Klorel's anger was almost as profound. "He was rescued?" he asked harshly.

Thoth nodded. "He was. The Jaffa saw him taken through the stargate, but could not prevent it. I will need your aid to recover him, but not at this moment. It is time for kelanir."

It was at that moment that Hadji realized that both Thoth and Klorel had been speaking a language that Hadji did not know – yet understood – for this was the first word that had come up that did not have a translation in any of the languages that he knew. Nevertheless, he knew it, by whatever means he knew the language that Thoth and Klorel were speaking.

Klorel rose with Thoth and they went into another room in the suite, a room full of candles. Walking swiftly from one to the next, both of the creatures lit candle after candle till all were flickering. Then Thoth spoke a word and the overhead lights went out. They sat on the floor, cross legged, and closed their eyes for meditation.

Kelanir was a time of meditation that the Goa'uld, for that was the name of this race of parasites, practiced to access and process the knowledge that came of being what they were. Hadji tried himself to process the information that the Goa'uld were born with racial memories, with knowledge imparted to them by the mother that spawned them. It was a bizarre, alien concept.

Klorel seemed surprised by the request, but not so surprised that he objected. Hadji got the feeling that this was not something he had done very often in the past. He felt the Goa'uld sink into a deep state of meditation.

Relieved of the constant presence of the other in his mind, Hadji reveled in the revelation that Jonny remained alive. His brother was not dead. His brother was rescued, which meant that Earth was warned that . . .

He opened the eyes he shared with Klorel. With the other so deeply focused, he could control his body without resistance. Sitting across from him was the body of his father. Benton Quest did not have the mind and body control abilities that Hadji had developed in childhood, so Hadji guessed that he had been firmly suppressed by Thoth as he began this meditation.

Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill were warned that Hadji was no longer in sole control of his body, and that Benton Quest was possessed by the mind of an alien. He knew that rescue was coming, even if only in the form of mercy killings. Earth could not allow the knowledge that his father possessed to rest in the hands of an alien who was an enemy to their race.

Jonny was alive.

* * *

Daniel was already sitting in the commissary when Jack and Jonny came in. There was a great deal of interested muttering at the entrance of the boy, and a lot of covert looks. Jonny didn't seem to notice, but Daniel couldn't help wondering how much of that obliviousness was an act.

Jack managed both their food, with Jonny just pointing to the things he wanted. Daniel looked around the room again, and saw sympathy on most of the faces, even if there was an increase in the buzzing. In a society this closed and this small, any new addition was a cause for gossip, and Daniel noted at least three faces who had been off duty for the last few days. It would probably take a month or more for the whole staff to cycle through and learn about Jonny, between vacations and off world assignments.

He shook his head sharply. _Hopefully, Jonny won't be here that long,_ he thought. _One hopes we'll find them sooner than that._

Jack set the tray down as Jonny lowered himself to a chair. Daniel shoved the chair next to him in as close to the table as it would go and Jonny smiled his thanks as he maneuvered his leg up onto it. Jack was setting out their dishes.

Contrary to his expectations of a fifteen-year-old boy freed from parental influence, Jonny had selected eggs, bacon, a bowl of fruit and a glass of milk. By contrast, Jack made a very poor showing with his Froot Loops and cherry-filled powder donut.

"Is that what you eat every day?" Jonny asked.

"Hey, I only do this at breakfast!" Jack said defensively, though there had actually been no criticism in Jonny's tone.

The boy flushed. "I didn't mean –"

Jack grimaced. "No, don't worry. Sorry. I'm grumpy as a bear in the mornings."

Jonny's expression cleared. "Oh, is that all? My dad doesn't talk unless he has to the first hour he's awake."

"Sensible man," Jack said, and Daniel rolled his eyes. "So, Daniel, what's on the program for today?"

"Jonny's coming to my office," Daniel said. "The chair and stool are already set up to Janet's satisfaction." He turned to Jonny. "The dog bed's in there beside your chair, and –"

As if only now becoming aware of a potential problem, Jonny turned. "Bandit, no!" Daniel followed his gaze. The dog was still in the commissary line, sniffing at ankles and looking hopeful. "Here boy!"

The little dog turned his head and bounced through the maze of legs back to Jonny's side. There was scattered laughter from the gathered breakfast crowd. A couple of people scowled at the animal's presence, but most seemed content enough.

"Stay with me, boy," Jonny said, tilting his body to reach down and pet his dog. Then he looked over at Daniel. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it," Daniel said, smiling. "I thought we'd keep you mapping the inscriptions if that suits you, Jonny." The boy nodded. "At least for the morning. And then I might be able to start teaching you Goa'uld, depending on what lands in my in box during the day."

"Cool!" Jonny said, grinning. He seemed in good spirits this morning, but when he bent to take a bite, Jack gave Daniel a look. Daniel nodded, getting the message. He'd keep a close eye on Jonny's mood today. There were bound to be moments of deep distress. Daniel knew the roller coaster all too well.

"So, how long has this been going on?" Jonny asked, gesturing to take the facility as a whole into account.

Daniel looked at Jack, who shrugged. Jonny was to be given full access to information, according to the general. "I don't know how aware you were of it, you were pretty young, but for me this all started the day I gave my last public presentation."

"At the Chicago Symposium of Anthropology and Archeology in 1995." Jonny said. "My dad was disappointed to have missed it. We were delayed an extra day in Singapore, or he would have attended your lecture." Daniel blinked, a little startled by this flood of information. "He was really worried when you dropped out of sight after that, I didn't get many details. He talked about it with Race, so all I really got was what I overheard."

Daniel's lips twitched and he exchanged an amused look with Jack as Jonny bent to feed Bandit a piece of bacon. So Jonny admitted, however obliquely, to eavesdropping.

"Anyway, I guess what he was told was that you were dead, and he was very upset. He said a lot of rude things about a lot of people before he – before I went to bed." Daniel strove to keep his face straight. Fifteen was an age full of strong sensitivities about adult dignity. He didn't want to embarrass or annoy Jonny by seeming amused.

Jack, on the other hand, was looking obscurely embarrassed. "Well," he said after a moment, "that wasn't true, exactly. Daniel wasn't dead, but the people who told your father that didn't know the truth."

Jonny nodded calmly. "I figured as much," he said. "What happened?"

"Jack and I were called in on the project on the same day, if I remember correctly." Jack nodded and Daniel went on. "Dr. Catherine Langford called me in. They needed me to translate a cover stone that had been discovered in Egypt in 1928 by her father."

"A cover stone?" Jonny asked, sounding puzzled. "Why?"

"It was the stone that was found over the top of the stargate," Daniel said. "It explained the purpose of the gate and gave an address. One single gate address. Seven symbols, each representing a discrete point in space –"

"To enable navigation!" Jonny exclaimed, eyes widening. "You need six points to identify an exact location in a three dimensional environment and a seventh to plot a course from. Dr. Carter hints around that in her book, but never states it explicitly. Is that how the stargate works?" Daniel nodded, grinning at Jack's expression. "But . . . forgive me," he said, pausing uneasily, "but you're not a astrophysicist. Why did they need you?"

Jonny was nothing if not direct. Daniel wasn't offended, though he could read in Jack's face that he expected him to be. Shrugging, he said, "Because the information regarding the stargate was written in Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. The man in charge of the translation –"

Jack abruptly raised his hand and uttered a sharp exclamation that meant 'stop now or my head will explode.' "Ah!" Daniel grimaced at him and opened his mouth to go on, but Jack did it again. "Aaah!" Jonny looked both shocked and faintly amused.

Daniel shrugged and gestured for Jack to go ahead. Jack turned to Jonny very confidentially and said, "He's about to start babbling a bunch of stuff about someone named Budge that you probably already know, that I've already heard and forgotten, and that really isn't to the point. Put simply, Dr. Langford and her team of specialists, working with the military, had spent two years trying to translate the text and get the stargate to work." Daniel rolled his eyes. "It took Daniel about ten minutes to get the basic text translated and two weeks to unlock the puzzle."

Daniel sighed at the impressed look on Jonny's face as the boy turned back to him. He shook his head. "They'd have figured it out themselves if Gary Meyers could have weaned himself away from his over-reliance on Budge," he said. Jack gave him a warning look which he ignored.

"But, why did everyone think you were dead, then?" Jonny asked.

"When we opened the stargate, we went through to another world, called Abydos," Daniel said slowly. Jonny nodded.

Apparently observing Daniel's unease, Jack took up the tale. "You remember the stuff I mentioned last night about killing Ra, nuclear bomb, all that?" Jonny nodded again. "Well, that happened on the trip to Abydos, among other things. See, Daniel . . ." Jack glanced over at him and Daniel looked towards the ceiling. "Well, he wasn't sure how to get us back home right off the bat, so we went to stay with the locals."

"A group of transplanted humans who were being kept in slavery and illiteracy by Ra," Daniel interjected.

"Right," Jack said. "Well, we spent a fair amount of time with the villagers who lived near the gate, and Daniel fell in love. He stayed on Abydos with his . . . wife."

Daniel blinked at his old friend. Unlike he had during so many of Jack's descriptions of their first trip to Abydos, Daniel didn't feel his ears reddening. Usually Jack played it for laughs, and Daniel didn't mind, but Jonny was just a boy, and he was in emotional distress himself at the moment. There were occasions when Daniel realized that he'd barely scraped the surface of Jack O'Neill.

Jonny turned to Daniel. "I don't understand. You stayed behind and got married? Why did that mean you had to tell everyone you were dead?"

"Actually, it meant I had to come back and tell everyone he was dead," Jack said. "See, I was supposed to destroy the gate on the other end with the nuclear bomb we'd taken along. But that was made a bit impossible by our using it to blow up Ra's ship in orbit."

Jonny's eyes widened. "So what? Couldn't you just tell them the truth and . . ." Jonny's voice trailed off, and he answered his own question. "No, of course not, this is the military we're talking about, here." He sounded utterly disgusted. He must have seen the expression on Jack's face because he flushed. "I'm sorry, Jack, but you can only hear the phrase, 'someone get those brats out of here' so many times before it makes you want to throw things."

"I can understand that," Jack said neutrally.

The sound of barking from a ways off made them all turn and Jonny flushed. Bandit was on his hind legs next to a table full of young marines who were feeding him bits of sausage and bacon.

"Bandit!" Jonny called and the little dog hunched down and looked over at his master, a singularly guilty expression on his face. Jonny looked up at the marines. "I'm sorry, he's usually better behaved than this." The little dog slunk back to Jonny's side, clearly aware of his disgrace.

One of the marines, a dark-haired young man named Taggart, coughed. "Actually, it was my fault. I tempted him."

Jack made a throat-clearing noise and all four of the marines became suddenly very interested in their plates. Jonny, meanwhile, was speaking firmly to Bandit. "Now behave," he said, bending to scratch the little dog. Daniel peered under the table as Jonny sat up again and saw Bandit curl himself into a ball under his master's chair. Jonny looked at Jack and said, "So, you told the military that you'd blown up the gate by remote control or timer or something?"

Jack nodded. "And negated the threat. Which meant that I had to explain Daniel's absence, and come up with a reason why we didn't need to send a new bomb and kill all those people. So since several of my men actually did die on that mission . . ." Jonny's eyes softened with sympathy, and Jack cleared his throat. "Anyway, I just said he was another casualty and that I'd set off the bomb, destroying the gate, and left it at that. Then, a little over a year later, I'm retired, and I get this call into the mountain to see a General Hammond who tells me that someone's opened the stargate." Giving Daniel a sideways look, Jack said, "To cut a long story short, we went to see Daniel and brought him back here."

"But where's your wife, then?" Jonny asked.

Daniel sighed. "Jack's leaving out a couple of key points in the story. The reason they came to Abydos was because an alien had come through the gate on Earth, kidnapped someone and then returned through the gate. They thought the gate only went to Abydos – for reasonably valid reasons," Daniel said as Jonny looked about to interrupt incredulously. "So they came to Abydos to see what was wrong. While they were there, those same people came through the Abydonian gate and kidnapped more people, including my wife, Sha're, and her brother Skaara, both of whom wound up as hosts to Goa'ulds."

Jonny's brows knit. "So your wife and brother-in-law are still out there?" he asked.

"Actually no," said a deep nasal voice from just behind Daniel's elbow. All three of them turned and Daniel narrowed his eyes at Colonel Simmons.

"I think we can tell the story ourselves," he said coldly. What the hell was Simmons doing here? Daniel had thought he'd left.

"Yeah, don't you have a rock to crawl under?" Jack asked with an unfriendly grin.

Simmons started to pull out the chair beside Daniel's, looking startled when it didn't easily move. Daniel started to speak, but Jonny beat him to it. "My cast is on that chair, Colonel Simmons," he said politely. Eyebrows rising to his hairline, Daniel turned toward Jack, who looked as surprised as he did. Then he blinked and looked around, because there was an odd grinding sort of sound that he couldn't immediately identify.

Simmons raised his hand from the back of the chair and looked down at the boy. "Of course, Jonny," he said smoothly. "How are you feeling?"

Daniel felt as if he'd come in on the second act as he watched Jonny, whose face bore a curiously shuttered look. "I'm okay, Colonel Simmons. How is Major Smith?"

Simmons raised an eyebrow and gazed with false geniality down at the boy. "He's doing very well. I'll let him know you asked."

Jonny smiled tightly up at him. "Yes, please do," he said.

"I was very sorry to hear about your father and the Indian boy," Simmons said, and Daniel would swear he saw lightening flash in Jonny's eyes. The odd sound grew louder, and Daniel suddenly realized that it was growling coming from under Jonny's chair. Simmons didn't seem to have noticed it, though Bandit had obviously noticed him.

"He's my brother, colonel, and he has a name," Jonny replied harshly, all pretense of civility gone. "I'm sure you could remember it if you tried."

"Of course," Simmons said. "I'm terribly sorry. Well, I should be going." As he turned, however, Bandit burst out from under the chair next to Daniel, barking loudly and ferociously at the colonel. Simmons looked around and took a step away from the fierce little animal. "What on earth is that dog doing here?" he demanded.

Daniel reached out and caught Bandit's collar. This earned him a glare from the dog, but Bandit didn't stop barking. In fact, he redoubled his efforts, claws scrabbling on the floor.

"He's Jonny's dog," Jack said, grinning. "And he seems to share my taste in people."

"Well, he should hardly be in the mess hall. It's not sanitary."

"He's cleaner than most people I know!" Jonny retorted. People all around the room were looking at them, and though most of them couldn't hear the conversation, they were nevertheless glaring at the NID colonel. Simmons' eyes darted back and forth, clearly noting the reactions of the audience to this little scene.

"Well, it's not my problem," Simmons said, glaring at the dog, who was still growling and barking at him. He looked down at Jonny. "I'll see you later." Both words and tone seemed ominous to Daniel, but Jonny just nodded, eyes narrowed.

Once Simmons was out of earshot, though, he muttered, "Not if I see you first." Jack and Daniel exchanged a look, and then Jonny bent almost double. "Here, Bandit!" he called. Daniel let go of the collar and the little dog ran to his boy. Jonny appeared again a moment later, holding him in his arms. Bandit licked his face enthusiastically.

"I'll second that," Jack said. "How did you make that weasel's acquaintance?"

Jonny grimaced. "He came out to the house last year during Race's vacation. He had this Major Smith with him, who was apparently supposed to keep Hadji and me occupied while he put some kind of pressure on my dad."

"Supposed to?" Daniel asked, eyes widening with anticipatory glee. Jack raised his eyebrows and waited.

Reddening slightly, Jonny grinned. "We took him for a walk out into the woods and got him thoroughly lost, then went back to the house. We only saw the tail end of the confrontation, but Dad pretty much threw Simmons out on his ear. Only then did either of them notice that Hadji and me were watching. He turned tomato red and demanded to know where Smith was."

Daniel was biting his lips. Jack said, "So what did you tell him?"

"We just shrugged. We're teenagers, what do we know?" Jonny laughed, but then his expression sobered, no doubt thinking of Hadji. "Anyway, it took us about a half hour to find him, he'd been hiking in the wrong direction and didn't know a thing about walking around in a forest. Weird for a soldier, I'd say." He shrugged. "He'd managed to wander into a patch of poison ivy, and it turns out he's unusually allergic to it. He claimed we led him straight into it, but it's not true. We were careful to avoid it." Jonny leaned forward and fixed his attention on Daniel. "But you were telling me about your wife when that git interrupted."

All the amusement drained out of him. "Yes. Sha're and Skaara." Daniel took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way Jack was looking at him. He tried to frame his words carefully, all too aware of the effect this tale could have on Jonny. "The Goa'uld who inhabited her was within a hair's breadth of killing me, and someone had to take immediate decisive action." He swallowed convulsively. "She was killed – they both were. It was not possible, in the circumstances, to save Sha're."

Jonny's eyes were round. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed. "So – you were there, then. That must have been horrible."

Daniel nodded. "It was, but there was a moment, at the end, when Sha're was herself again, when we could say goodbye."

Jonny reached out across the table and squeezed Daniel's hand. "How long ago was that?"

"A little over two years."

"I'm sorry."

There was a brief silence while Daniel mastered himself. He didn't often speak of Sha're because it was too difficult to remember her – and how badly he'd failed her.

Jack stepped into the breach. "And Skaara is the friend I told you about, Jonny," he said, catching the boy's attention. "The Tok'ra removed the Goa'uld symbiote in his head and he's gone back to his normal life. We were very fortunate."

Jonny took this information in silently, but his hand, still on Daniel's, tightened sharply. After a moment, he said, "Simmons thinks that we're going to have to kill them, doesn't he?"

"Simmons is an ass," Daniel said. "And he's not even involved in the search for your family, so don't worry."

"But . . ." Jonny faltered, eyes very wide. "But if Thoth is killing someone, like you said Sha're was killing you, they'll have to stop him somehow." He bit his lip, looking desperately worried. "What if killing him is the only way to stop Thoth?"

"Don't think about that, Jonny," Jack advised. "It won't come to that."

"But I know my dad. He'd hate . . . he's . . . what's Thoth doing while he's wearing him? What's he going to have to live with afterwards?"

"Let me tell you how I coped with that question," Daniel said. Jonny's eyes turned towards him, very intent, almost desperate. "I focused on getting her back. Everything else was a side issue. Getting her back was the most important thing, anything beyond that we would deal with when the time came."

Jonny stared into Daniel's eyes, then nodded slowly. "And we will get them back," he said with fierce determination. "And we'll deal with . . . whatever . . . afterwards."

Daniel squeezed the boy's hand. "Truly."

A voice spoke from behind him. "Somebody hasn't finished his breakfast," Janet said. Daniel looked up in surprise and Jonny took his hand away quickly. The doctor looked down at the three trays over Daniel's shoulder. "Hmm . . ." she said. "I can see that Jonny's setting both of you a very good example with his breakfast choices."

Jonny flushed darker and Jack glowered up at her. "There were cherries in my donut," he said with dignity.

Janet laughed. "How's your foot doing this morning, Jonny?"

Jonny shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I took the pain pills you gave me."

"Well, just don't put any weight on it, okay?" she said.

Jonny nodded virtuously and Janet went on towards the food line. When she was out of sight, the boy rolled his eyes, and Daniel grinned at him. "She means well," he said.

"I know," Jonny said. "But, honestly, you'd think I was five, not fifteen."

"She's used to dealing with people like us," Jack said. "People who tend to treat her medical orders as suggestions."

Jonny raised his eyebrows at the colonel. "So it's your fault?" he asked with an air of innocence that was wholly at odds with the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jack sputtered, then said, "Daniel helped!"

Daniel felt his own eyebrows climb. "Why are you bringing me into this, Jack?" he asked.

"You did," Jack replied.

Jonny laughed and said, "You two are just like me and Hadji, I swear!"

Daniel met Jack's eyes and shrugged. "You haven't finished eating," he said to Jonny.

Jonny picked at his eggs with his fork. "I've had enough for now," he said.

Daniel looked down at the tray to gauge how much Jonny had eaten, then stood up. "I'll be back in a minute." He went to the kitchen and sought out Sgt. Saunders. She was directing a couple of the cooks in some task, so he waited until she was done and then said, "Emily?"

"Dr. Jackson," she said, smiling. "What can I do for you?"

"Jonny Quest is going to be working with me in my office today," he said. "Would you arrange some healthy snacks to be sent up in about an hour or so? He says he's not hungry now, but I have a feeling it'll creep up on him."

"And he is a growing boy," she agreed, nodding. "He's what, fourteen?"

"Fifteen," Daniel said.

"Probably has a hollow leg the size of Texas," she said. "I'll make sure you're well supplied with foodstuffs."

"Thanks, Emily. And you can call me Daniel, you know."

She gave him a motherly pat on he shoulder. "Of course, Dr. Jackson."

He let out an exasperated sigh and she just dimpled at him. "Thank you, Sgt. Saunders," he said, and her eyebrows raised. He shrugged. "It feels odd being so familiar with you when you're so formal with me."

Her brows knit together and she looked almost annoyed. "Now that isn't fair," she said. "I call everyone by their titles, it's part of my job."

Daniel shifted uneasily on his feet. "It just feels wrong . . . I feel like I'm talking to 'the help' when I call you Emily and you call me Dr. Jackson."

Now she really did look affronted. "Is there something wrong with being the help?" she demanded.

"No, there isn't!" he exclaimed, feeling like he'd somehow entered this conversation from the wrong angle. "But you're not the help!"

"Then what am I?"

"I mean, you're not a servant, that's what I meant." Great. He was babbling now. He sounded like an idiot.

"Is there something wrong with being a servant?" she asked.

"No!" How had this conversation gone wrong? "I just feel like I'm being condescending and snotty."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Daniel, you're only condescending and snotty to your imbecilic superiors. You're always polite to those who are lower in rank or academic station than you are." He blinked at her. "Like Makepeace. Never did like that man. He was too abrupt. And he didn't like my cookies."

Daniel blinked again. "I love your cookies," he said.

She smiled. "I know. Which reminds me . . ." She turned and pulled out a small tub full of cookies. Way too many cookies.

"I can't eat that much – oh, for Jonny too."

"Actually, those are just for you and Colonel O'Neill. I don't bother sending them to his office, he spends more time in yours." Daniel nodded helplessly, not sure what to say. "I hadn't considered Jonny in that batch, but those will do for a start."

Daniel nodded. "Thanks. Um . . . Jonny seems to like to eat healthy, so you know, lots of fruit and veggies and stuff . . . if you've got that . . . as opposed to the stuff Jack usually eats."

"Right," she said, and he left, feeling a bit unsettled after the conversation.

He headed back toward the table and saw Janet heading towards it from another angle, her eyes on Jonny's tray. Moving to intercept her, he caught her arm unobtrusively. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He spoke in an undertone. "I know he hasn't finished, I've got it handled."

"Handled?" she asked.

"I've got Emily sending some food to my office in an hour." Janet looked dubious. "Look, he probably isn't hungry right now, and if he forces himself, it might just make him feel sick. In another hour or so, his metabolism will demand more food despite his stress, and then he'll eat."

"So long as he does eat," she said, sighing. "I leave his feeding in your capable hands."

"Remember, he's fifteen. His dignity's important to him right now, and it's pretty fragile."

She gave him a look, then nodded. "Let me know if I'm getting too overbearing."

"I will," he assured her. "And I really have to be getting to work."

"Make sure he doesn't do too much," she said as he turned away.

"Doc, the kid knows how to handle being injured," Jack said abruptly and Daniel looked to see who was with Jonny. He was talking to Teal'c who seemed to be listening very intently. Daniel wondered what they were talking about.

"The point is, colonel, that he is a kid, and needs to be looked after."

"I know he's a kid, but –"

"If you two will excuse me," Daniel said and left them to it. Why Jack had felt the need to intervene, he didn't know, but he wasn't going to participate in a prolonged discussion. They didn't seem to notice his defection, which only confirmed his decision. He walked over and stood by Jonny's chair.

"Indeed," Teal'c said, obviously in response to something Jonny had just said.

"Wow, that's . . . you didn't even know them yet?"

"I knew that they had the best chance of any I had ever seen of combating the Goa'uld on realistic terms, and I wished to join such a struggle."

"That takes guts," Jonny said.

Teal'c nodded slightly. "Yes," he said simply.

"Well, Jonny," Daniel said, and the boy looked up at him. "It's time for us to go to work. You ready?"

"Sure," Jonny said. "But what do I do with my tray?"

Teal'c bent and slid the tray away from Jonny's hands. "If you will allow me?"

"Um . . . sure, thanks." Jonny smiled brightly up at the Jaffa. "See you later." Daniel held his crutches for him as the boy stood up. "Come on, Bandit," he said and the little dog got to his feet and followed them out of the commissary.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Jack glared at Dr. Fraiser. "I just think there's such a thing as going –" He broke off as he caught sight of Daniel and Jonny leaving the commissary. "As going too far," he finished.

"What?" she asked, turning. "Oh." She shook her head. "Colonel, I am not trying to embarrass or overwhelm him, but I need to be sure he's taking proper care of himself."

"Neither Daniel nor I is going to let him tap dance on that leg, Doc," Jack said, trying to be reassuring but he was afraid that his exasperation came through more clearly. "And we're not leaving him alone. He'll be okay."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Of course, I know that. I'm sorry. I just –"

And Jack suddenly understood. Jonny was about a year younger than Cassie, Fraiser's daughter, and the doctor was having trouble distancing herself from her patient's woes. He gave her a smile. "He will, Doc, he'll be okay."

She nodded and bit her lip. "There is one thing, though, colonel, that concerns me."

"Yes?"

"I think he may have a case of stoicism, and I'm not sure Daniel's the best one for catching it because he does the same damned thing."

"Ya think?" Jack said sarcastically.

Her eyes snapped. "Colonel!"

He schooled his expression carefully. "Sorry, go on."

Her expression warmed. "Would you please keep an eye on him and see that he takes his pain meds when he needs them?"

"Of course. Is there anything else you're worried about?"

She smiled wryly at him. "Do you want a list?"

"Only if it's about Jonny," he said.

She laughed. "I'd better get back to work."

He watched her go, then walked over to join Teal'c. "So, any thoughts on what we can do to find Dr. Quest?" he asked.

The Jaffa pursed his lips, then shook his head regretfully. "Unfortunately, no, I do not. We have contacted the Tok'ra, we are attempting to identify the ship, but tracing a ship through hyperspace is impossible as far as I know."

Jack sighed. "I hate these kinds of situations. I much prefer something where simple firepower is the answer."

"All too often it is not," Teal'c said. "We must wait for intelligence." He paused for a long moment, then scowled. "I dislike waiting."

"Know how you feel, big guy," Jack replied.

They were silent for a moment, then Teal'c got a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Perhaps I should see if any of my contacts among the rebel Jaffa know anything."

Jack nodded, eyes widening in appreciating of the suggestion. "Couldn't hurt, but we'd better check with Hammond first."

Accordingly, they headed up to the general's office where Hammond was having a confrontation with Simmons in the door of his office. "I don't know what business you think you still have on this base," Hammond was saying when they came in, "but I'll thank you to take yourself off it."

Simmons gazed frostily at Hammond. "Very well, general," he said. "But the sooner I return, the sooner I make my report."

"I'm not afraid of you, Simmons," Hammond replied. "Good bye."

Jack watched him go through narrowed eyes. "Jackass," he muttered.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" Hammond asked, stepping back and inviting them into his office.

"Actually, sir, it's more a question of what Teal'c can do for us," Jack said.

Hammond raised his eyebrows and turned to Teal'c, who nodded respectfully, then said, "I thought I might ask Bra'tac if he could find out where Thoth is now from his contacts among the rebel Jaffa."

"Do you think they'll cooperate?" Hammond said.

"I am certain that Bra'tac will encourage cooperation if I place sufficient stress on the urgency of the matter," Teal'c said, nodding again.

Hammond looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "We'll give it a try. Just don't mention the boys or Quest. We're just looking for Thoth."

Teal'c blinked. "Sir, I believe that would defeat the purpose. If Bra'tac tells them that Thoth is holding a child captive, it will make them more ready to talk."

"You probably shouldn't mention how old Hadji is then," Jack said.

"I planned to say merely that he is a child. By your culture and laws he is so, is he not?"

"For about another two weeks," Hammond confirmed, and Jack lifted his head.

"What?"

"His eighteenth birthday is in two weeks," the general said grimly. "I'd like to have that boy home before then, but I don't think we have a prayer of achieving that."

"It seems most unlikely," Teal'c agreed. "But I have authorization?"

"You do. Let me know when you're ready to move."

Teal'c bowed slightly and left the room. Jack started to follow him, but Hammond called him back. "Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack stopped. Teal'c glanced back and then went on his way. He certainly didn't need Jack's help to get ready to go see Bra'tac. "Yes, general?"

"Close the door and sit down, colonel," he said. Jack did as he was asked and then waited for the general to speak. "I don't know what Simmons' interest in Jonny is, but he clearly has one, and that makes me nervous."

"Did you know he's already met him, sir?" Jack asked.

Hammond's brows rose. "No, I didn't. How did that come about?"

"Evidently Simmons was pressing Dr. Quest for something and was turned away a lot less politely than I was." He snorted. "But Quest is a decent sort of guy – and it's Simmons."

"True," Hammond said. "So did they talk?"

"They had words," Jack said. "Mostly polite ones, but Jonny lost his cool a little when Simmons expressed his sympathy about 'the Indian boy.'"

Hammond's eyes widened and his nostrils flared. "Tactful of him," he said in rigid tones.

"Actually, I think he was goading," Jack said thoughtfully. "He had that air about him. I don't like it, there's something odd going on with him."

"The last time we had real trouble with the NID, you got help from Maybourne. Any chance of that happening again?"

"He didn't exactly leave me his card," Jack said dryly. "He just showed up, and he was trying to clear himself, if you recall. Then he vanished again, into thin air."

"Damn."

"He'd have to have an interest in this to get involved, I suspect, and I can't think for the life of me what in this situation would grab a man like him."

"It's hard to say, but we need an inside link to what the NID are up to here."

Jack sighed. "Well, I don't have that anymore."

Klaxons began blaring suddenly, and a voice came over the loudspeakers. "Unauthorized offworld activation."

Both men moved instantly towards the door.

* * *

Jonny looked up at the sound of the klaxons. Bandit had been sleeping. Now he leapt to his feet and began barking madly. "Unauthorized offworld activation," said a calm male voice. "Repeat, unauthorized offworld activation."

Daniel looked up and Jonny sensed a tension in him, as if he were resisting the impulse to go see what was happening. "Go ahead," he said. "I'll be okay."

Daniel cocked an eyebrow. "No," he said, shaking his head. "They'll call me if I'm needed."

"I'll be fine," Jonny said impatiently. "I'm not going to fall apart if I'm alone for awhile." When Daniel just shrugged, Jonny looked down at the paper he was working on. He put it carefully aside and crumpled up the blank piece underneath it to vent his spleen a little.

"I'm sorry, Jonny," Daniel said, putting his pencil down and walking over. He dragged a chair so that he could sit down beside him. "I know how you feel. You want desperately for people to leave you alone, but . . ." He shrugged again, looking pained. "It's not better when you're alone, is it?"

"But nobody's watching," Jonny said, not looking up.

Daniel surprised him by letting out a dry laugh. "Boy, do I know that one," he said, and Jonny knit his brows. His wife had been taken by the Goa'uld, and everyone here had to know that. "But Jack and I, we aren't watching like that. I know you don't know us, and that makes it hard . . ."

Jonny shrugged. "I want Race. I know I sound goofy, but . . ."

"You don't sound goofy," Daniel said. "And let me tell you, Hammond is trying. There seems to be some problem with getting him clearance."

Rolling his eyes, Jonny sighed. "No doubt. The government hasn't looked too kindly on us for awhile now, since Dad stopped taking as many assignments as he used to."

"Yes, well, the government is a many-headed beast with a lot of different agendas," Daniel said. "Many of which are mutually incompatible."

"Isn't that the truth," Jonny said. "I think that's part of why Dad stopped doing jobs for them. After the Corporation, he started paying even more attention to the possible applications of his work, and when he works for the government, he has no control over what his discoveries are used for."

"I can understand that," Daniel said. "I –"

Colonel O'Neill walked in the door. Jonny bit his lip. This wasn't easygoing Jack, this was the military officer in command mode. "You're needed in the gateroom, Daniel. I'll stay here with Jonny."

"Right," Daniel said. "Do I need to take anything?"

"Just your overeducated brain," O'Neill said. "Get moving."

Daniel nodded and left and Jonny looked up at Colonel O'Neill with some trepidation. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing serious," O'Neill said, turning the chair Daniel had been sitting on and straddling it. Jonny must have looked unconvinced, because he sighed. "On some of the planets we visit, the natives think of us as gods, because they've been culturally accustomed to 'gods' coming through the stargate."

"That makes sense," Jonny said.

"Well, it can be pretty hard to dispel the notion on occasion. SG-10 was on a world where the gate is in a heavily wooded environment, and evidently there was someone who wanted to see 'heaven' or their equivalent of it at any rate, so he waited until the 'gods' opened the gate and ran through."

Jonny blinked. "That's pretty rash. The gods might not be pleased."

Jack laughed. "Well, I'm guessing a concrete bunker and ten guys with guns pointing at him doesn't match his notions of heaven. The team came through right after him and told the SFs to stand down." At Jonny's raised eyebrow, he said, "The guards in the gateroom. But this poor guy doesn't speak a word of English, and it appears that the upper classes of this country don't speak quite the same language as the lower classes, so the linguist on team is having trouble getting through to him." Jack shook his head. "How that works, I don't really get. How can two groups of people from the same country speak different languages?"

Jonny shrugged. "Lots of people in the U.S. speak different languages," he said.

"True, but it's not split along class lines, not really."

"No," Jonny said. "But in medieval Britain there was a time period where all the nobles spoke French and all the commoners spoke Old English, and they managed."

Jack blinked. "How'd that happen?"

"The French invaded. They conquered, killed most of the noble guys, married the noble girls and stayed. That's how Old English morphed into Middle English, actually. Daniel could probably tell you a lot more if you asked him."

Jack nodded. "Remind me not to do that."

Jonny's eyes widened. "Sorry," he said. "I don't mean to –"

His own eyes widening, Jack shook his head. "No, you're okay. I just don't want to hear Daniel go on and on and on for hours about it." Jonny shrugged, not entirely convinced. He had a habit, much like his father's, of spouting a babble of information, but it wasn't like it was with his father. Everyone wanted to hear what his father had to say, but half the time people just looked at Jonny like they wanted him to shut up. Jack wasn't done. "Daniel can, you know. Babble for hours, that is. About toilets. About teacups. About just about anything, really."

Jonny looked up, intrigued. "Really?"

Jack gave him a look that made him feel like a weirdo. "Yes, really," he said. "So, Jonny, tell me, what do you do for fun?"

Jonny shrugged. "All kinds of things. Mountain climbing, scuba diving, reading, parasailing, hang gliding, traveling with my dad, seeing new cultures, judo, you know, lots of stuff." Jack looked a little surprised. "What, did you think I spent all my time in laboratories or dusty libraries?" He grinned. "You don't learn languages from books, Jack, you learn them by speaking them, in real life situations."

"Daniel learns them from books," Jack said.

"Daniel is a linguistic genius," Jonny replied. "And I'm sure even he will tell you that he remembers them better if he speaks them."

Jack paused thoughtfully. "He certainly seems to learn them faster if they're spoken to him. He's incredible."

"I'll bet. My dad's pretty good, and he said that Dr. Jackson blew him away."

Jack reached out picked up the sheet of paper Jonny had been working on. "This is what you've been doing?"

"There's three more sheets over there," Jonny said, pointing at the table Daniel used for his workspace. "Daniel said he wanted to look at them later, see if he could get them translated."

Jack wandered over and looked at the other pages. "How did you remember all of this?"

"I didn't," Jonny said fretfully. "I forgot a lot of symbols."

"There aren't more than ten missing out of all these," Jack said. "I wouldn't call that a lot."

"They could be critical," Jonny protested. "Not that I think they'd have carved anything critical on pillars in a jail cell . . . though I'm not actually sure that was meant to be a jail cell . . . but the Egyptians put some pretty weird stuff in pretty weird places sometimes, so you never know."

Jack put the papers down and looked over at him. "Don't beat yourself up about it. You were under a lot of stress and still are. That can mess with the memory a little."

"Daniel says we might be able to figure some of it out from context, and it may come to me. I already remembered a couple I'd forgotten."

"See, don't worry about it," Jack said. "If anything, you'll have better luck if you relax."

"Probably," Jonny agreed reluctantly.

"Why don't you take a break?" Jack suggested. "Do something else for awhile. That might shake things loose, too."

Jonny sighed. "Maybe you're right. I should write to Race and Jessie to let them know I'm okay. I mean, they've probably been told, but it'll be easier to believe if they hear it from me."

"Not a bad thought," Jack said.

Jonny bit his lip and looked at the page in front of him, then started trying to compose a letter. It wasn't easy. He'd never really had to write to Race before. Race was just always there. He kept starting, then tearing it up. Jack had gone over to sit on the sofa and was reading. At least, he seemed to be reading, Jonny wasn't sure.

It took four or five tries, but Jonny finally got a letter he'd be willing to send to Race. He looked up and cleared his throat. "Jack? What do I do about getting to see General Hammond?"

The colonel looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What's up? Is there a problem?"

"I finished my letter, so I wanted to find out if what I wrote was okay. I thought he'd be . . ." Jonny shifted uncomfortably, realizing that a two-star general undoubtedly had better things to do with his time than to go over a kid's letter. "I just figured . . ."

Jack nodded, surprising Jonny. "You're probably right, Jonny." he said. "When this thing in the gateroom is over, I'll give the general a call."

Jonny went back to work on his project, feeling a bit of nervous tension build in his gut. Jack didn't seem to think it would be a problem, but what if General Hammond thought he was being silly. Was he being silly? He really should write a letter to Jessie, too, but he thought he wanted to wait and see what would be taken out of the letter to Race first, so he wouldn't have to do it twice.

Several hours later, Daniel came back, looking tired and depressed. "Well that was fun," he said in a flat, unemotional voice. Jack got up from the sofa and walked over to put a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Poor man wanted to ask the gods to bring his wife back from the dead. I did not enjoy destroying his faith, but there wasn't a whole hell of a lot I could do. Seeing the gateroom pretty much did that for him. He couldn't reconcile it with his version of paradise or even their demon dimension that serves for a hell of sorts."

"What did you tell him?"

"That we weren't the gods, and that he wasn't going to find them through the stargate either. He asked about his wife, I asked how she died, and I'd guess she had some form of cancer. I told him that nothing could bring her back. He cried, I comforted him, meanwhile, we're in a room full of SFs and SG-10 and medics. It was chaos. I got him calm enough to go back through the gate to his own world, and SG-10 took him back." Daniel closed his eyes. "Then I got to join with SG-10 in their debriefing because the general wanted to know exactly what the guy wanted and why he'd come through."

Jack looked back and forth between them, then said, "I'll be back in a minute, Daniel, okay?"

Daniel nodded and went to sit down. Jonny grimaced. "I'm sure you did the right thing," he said tentatively.

The anthropologist looked up and gave him a smile. "There wasn't anything else I could have done," he said. "How's your work coming?"

"Okay," Jonny said. "I've got two more pages finished, and I remembered a couple more symbols. Jack got me to take a break, and I think it helped."

"Jack's good at that," Daniel said. "He says I work too much. He says Sam works too much. He's probably right about Sam, though."

"But not you?" Jonny asked, a grin twitching his lips.

Daniel seemed to catch his humor, because he grinned a little too. "No, of course not."

Jack came back in. "Hammond says you can come now, so I'll take you to him."

"Oh!" Jonny felt his stomach tighten again, but he got himself together.

"I'll be back shortly, Daniel," Jack said as they left. Within a few minutes, Jonny was on his way into the general's office, nervously thinking that he was wasting the general's time. Hammond, however, smiled and gestured Jonny towards the chair. Jack followed him in and helped him get his leg up on the ottoman, then, winking at Jonny and tossing a distinctly less than elegant salute in the general direction of his commanding officer, he left.

"Good afternoon, Jonny, I understand you have some concerns about writing to Mr. Bannon."

Jonny blinked a couple of times. The only people who ever called Race "Mr. Bannon" were bad guys, and General Hammond didn't fit the bill. He swallowed and said, "Yes, sir. I just . . . I didn't want to write a letter and then have it get chopped up before it gets where it's going."

"I think I can understand that. You've already written something?" he asked. Jonny nodded and Hammond said, "Hand it here, then." Jonny sat silently while the general read quickly through the letter once, then went back through, reading more carefully. He stopped just where Jonny had half-expected him to. "What are these 'emergency rules' you speak of here?" he asked.

Jonny flushed. "Race would know what I mean. We've got all sorts of sets of rules . . . and . . ." He grimaced. "We know that Thoth can come here without being detected because he's already done it once. Wearing my father's body, he could so easily go after Race and Jessie, and they wouldn't know what hit them. I was just trying to find some way to warn him not to trust Dad or Hadji too easily." He shook his head. "It's really not a good enough hint, but I couldn't think what else to say. I don't have permission to tell him what's really going on, and I certainly couldn't be that specific in a letter, but I really don't want something happening to them because they weren't warned. I mean, they're out there, in the open, with no protection at all."

Hammond gazed seriously at him for a long moment, then said, "May I give you some advice?"

"Please!" Jonny said.

"Anything that smacks of a code is not a good choice in a censored mail environment. Tell him what you want him to know in plain terms, and I'll help you remove the unacceptable references if there are any. He'll understand that you can't tell him everything."

Jonny nodded slowly. But . . . "I don't want to take up too much of your time, sir," he said.

Hammond grinned at him. "Believe me, son, I'll let you know if it becomes a problem." He got up and left the room for a minute, and Jonny could hear him talking. When he came back he was holding a clipboard and some paper. "Here, why don't you try again right now?"

Jonny nodded and set to work. It came easier this time, now that he wasn't trying to talk around things as much. It was still hard to put into words what he wanted to say. He wished he could just call him, but it was a lot harder to control what someone said in a phone call than it was to cut words out of a written letter.

He finished the letter to Race then handed it across to the general, who'd been working on paperwork of his own. While the general read it, he started his letter to Jessie.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Jessie had emerged from her bedroom and eaten in silence. Then she had returned to her room, ostentatiously ignoring him. At breakfast she had come down and eaten, then gone to the gym where she was presently having a very violent confrontation with a punching bag. Race was at the end of his rope. He didn't know what to do. Jessie was mad at him, but she had stopped searching, which was a mercy.

He hated this. He hated feeling so damned useless. He'd made all the phone calls he reasonably could this morning. He even had a message in to the president, but as he well know, these things took time. And all he knew was that Phil had spoken to Jonny for about five minutes, and Jonny had seemed like himself. Worried about Benton and Hadji, asking after Race, but very much himself.

It wasn't enough, damn it! Fortunately for his hide, Phil hadn't even tried to pretend that it was, but he'd been blocked away from Jonny as well now. He'd only been allowed to talk to him because Jonny had refused to speak to anyone without permission from I-1. Phil wasn't even supposed to have told him that much, but Race was pushy.

The phone rang and he leapt up to answer it. "Hello?" he said.

"Race, what's wrong?" It was Estella, and she sounded worried. "You sounded awful in that message last night. What is it?"

"It's complicated, and I can't really explain over the phone," he said. "Where are you? New York? Weren't you giving a lecture at some university?"

"I gave the lecture, that's why you couldn't reach me last night. Now I'm waiting in Newark for a plane to Portland. Do I want to rent a car in Portland?"

"No, I'll meet you at the airport. What time do you land?"

"Eleven fifty-one," she said. "In fact, they're calling for boarding now, so I'd better go."

"We'll see you then. Do you know what gate you'll be landing at?"

"Flight 3032, you'll have to call ahead." And Estella was gone. He hung up the phone and cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast. He went upstairs and put sheets on one of the beds and towels in the attached bathroom. Recalling Estella's preference for fresh air, he opened the windows just slightly to let the room air.

Then he went downstairs and into the gym. Jessie had moved on to the weights now, but she still looked very blank, the way she tended to when she was angry. He sighed and stood in the doorway, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. After several minutes, she let go of the bars she was pulling on and looked up at him. "What?" she asked, her voice neutral.

"Your mom's landing in Portland in just over an hour, Ponchita. I thought you might want to take a quick shower and come with me to pick her up."

"Mom's coming?" she said, eyes widening. "Did you call her?" He nodded. "What, did you think you couldn't handle me on your own?" she demanded angrily.

Race blinked. "I'll be leaving in a half hour. Meet me on the helipad if you're coming." He walked out of the gym feeling like she'd slugged him in the gut.

He went out to the helicopter and gave it a thorough going over. He waited forty minutes, but Jessie didn't show up. Finally, he climbed into the pilot's seat and took off. He was running late, and so he wound up landing as close as he could to the baggage terminal and meeting Estella as she pulled her bags off the carousel.

When he was face to face with her, he found he suddenly couldn't speak, so he bent to pick up her bags for her. "Race?" she said, catching his arm and stopping him. "Race, what is it? You look terrible! Nothing's happened to Jessie, has it?"

"No," he said. "She's fine."

"Benton and the boys? Are they all right?"

He swallowed convulsively. "I'll tell you in the chopper on the way to the house." He picked up the bags and turned towards the exit. "This way."

She walked with him silently, clearly worried. He stowed her bags and roped them down and waited till she was settled in her seat with the belt on before asking for clearance to take off again. Knowing the routine, Stell waited until they were in the air and past the point of needing to talk so much to ground control. Then she said, "What is it, Race?"

Race took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We've had a busy few months, globe hopping, and I felt like I wasn't giving Jessie enough attention, you know. Time for some concentrated father daughter time. So I took her to a restaurant in Bangor about a week and a half ago. We left the house at around three and got back just after midnight."

"So?"

"Benton, Hadji and Jonny were gone. No note, no indication of packing, no vehicles taken. They were just gone. Bandit was beside himself –"

"Bandit was there?" Estella asked, startled.

Race nodded. "That was my reaction. When do those three ever go anywhere that they don't take Bandit?" He bit his lip. "We checked the video footage, and found the last sighting of them. They went for a walk around three-thirty into the woods. And nothing's been seen of them since. Then, about a half hour after they went into the woods, all the video footage, inside and outside the house, turns to static for about forty-five minutes. After that it picks up again as if nothing was wrong."

"God, Race."

"I know." He bit his lip. "We alerted Phil, and the woods have been searched for twenty miles in all directions, quietly. It hasn't been announced, and now I sincerely doubt it's going to be."

"Why? Have they found nothing?"

He shook his head. "They found something all right. They found Jonny. He's alive and well and completely out of my reach. I haven't even been allowed to talk to him."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the proper security clearance," he said sourly.

"It couldn't be the Corporation again, could it?" she asked.

He shook his head again. "They'd tell me if it was that. All I've gotten is what Phil's told me, which is precious little. I got an order to pack up Jonny's things and his dog and give them to a military officer who showed up in an Air Force helicopter. After that it's been a resounding silence."

"Damn the military!" she said with fervor. "How's Jessie taking it?"

He stiffened slightly. "About like you'd think. I had to order her to stop looking for Jonny and the others."

"Why?" Estella asked, sounding puzzled. "I'd think you'd want her to."

"Not under these circumstances," he replied. "Think about it, Stell . . . they've got Jonny on some top secret military installation somewhere, they've let him talk to Phil all of once, and I don't have clearance. If we're caught sticking our noses in where they're not wanted, I'm not going to get clearance. Jessie seems to think that if we find him, they'll have to send him home. I'm terribly afraid that if she finds him, they'll just lock him up tighter."

There was silence for a few moments, and Race tried not to imagine what that could mean for Jonny. The government had tried for years to get a monopoly on Benton, who had stubbornly refused to be bullied. If they thought that Benton was lost to them for some reason, there were elements in the government that might seize on this opportunity to get a monopoly on his son. The very thought chilled him to the marrow.

"What about Benton and Hadji?" Estella asked after a few minutes.

Race grit his teeth. "I have no idea. We searched for a week before we got the news that they'd located Jonny, and we didn't find the smallest trace of them. It's like they were dematerialized or something. The bloodhounds led us to a spot in the woods where it looked like there might have been something of a scuffle, and then they lost the scent. If it was one of our usual crowd, I'm sure we would have heard something by now. Surd . . . Zin . . . Rage . . . none of them is what you'd call subtle."

"Not exactly," she agreed. "So how long has it been since you got news of Jonny?"

"Three days," he said. "Damn it."

"So, where's Jessie?"

"At the house," he said. "She . . . she didn't want to come." At that moment, he got the landing beacon from IRIS and Estella stayed quiet while he went through the landing procedures. When they got out of the chopper Estella came around and gave him a tight hug.

"It will be okay, Race," she said. "Benton's a smart man. He's a survivor."

"I know." He hugged back then gently disengaged and got her bags out. He didn't want to share his secret fear that Jonny was the only survivor of this little incident, and that the government was still trying to figure out what spin they wanted to put on the news.

* * *

As she showered, Jessie felt a little bad that she hadn't gone to meet her mother at the plane, but she was sure her mom would understand. It was just so infuriating. How could her dad act this way? How could he just abandon the Quests like this?

A niggling voice at the back of her mind told her she was being unfair, but she savagely suppressed it. Dr. Quest would never stop searching for them if they'd gone missing. He wouldn't let the military stand in his way. Her father was just still too stuck in the military mindset of taking orders and believing what he was told.

She rinsed out her hair and turned off the water, squeezing the water out of the long strands. It had darkened over the last few years so it wasn't quite the carrotty red it had been when she was younger. Wrapping it in a towel, she got herself dried off and dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt. Mom would be as shocked as she was that Dad wasn't looking for the Quests. That he wasn't making any effort at all to bring Jonny home.

She went into her room and stared at the computer. He'd ordered her not to look. The temptation to just ignore that order was incredible, but she just couldn't bring herself to it. He didn't give her orders except in extreme situations.

Instead she turned aside to her writing desk and pulled out a piece of stationery. She picked up a pen and started trying to write a letter. There were too many things she couldn't say, though. She couldn't tell him how angry she was at her father. Jonny didn't need to know that. She didn't want to tell him about the fruitless searching. It was frustrating.

She heard the chopper landing, and she didn't quite know how to react. She didn't want to go down to see her father, but she did want to see her mother. She went to the bathroom and pulled her hair out of the towel, running her brush through it. After a few minutes, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see her mother in the doorway.

"Mom!" she cried and threw herself at her.

Her mother caught her in a warm hug, but then stepped back. "Let's go in your room, Jessie," she said. Something seemed a little off, but she wasn't sure what. Had Dad told her about Jonny and the others yet? Jessie shut the door and they sat down on her bed. "Your father told me what happened, or at least what he knows about what happened to Jonny, Hadji and Benton."

"Did he tell you he's ordered me not to do anything about it?" Jessie demanded.

"He did," her mother said. "And he told me his reasons, which –"

"Aren't reasons at all!" Jessie exclaimed. "He's not even trying!"

Her mother was silent for a long moment after that, and Jessie sneaked a look at her expression. She was gazing at Jessie with a grave expression in her eyes. "Did you say that to him?" she asked.

The question and the tone in was asked in made Jessie's tummy flutter a little. "Yes."

"That explains a lot," her mother said. "So, you told your father that you don't believe in him or in his loyalty to the people he's worked for since you were seven years old, at a time when he's got to be feeling about as useless as he could possibly feel."

Jessie blinked. "But he's not," she said weakly. "He's waiting, he said. He's not even trying to get Jonny home."

"That may not be possible, Jessie," her mother said. "Have you taken a moment to consider how all of this has got to be making your father feel?"

"I – um –" Jessie floundered, flustered and not sure how to react.

"I thought not. You know he loves Jonny and Hadji like they were his own sons, and Benton like a brother. He'd never abandon them, ever. There's just nothing he can do without making things worse right now, and for a man like your father that's the worst possible situation to be in. And instead of being a support to him, you knocked his feet out from under him."

"I –" Jessie felt tears starting and could muster the energy to hold them back. "I didn't –"

"I know you're angry, sweetheart," her mother said. "And you have reason to be, but not at your father. You're old enough now to know better than to take your feelings out on the nearest target. Your father has feelings, too."

That niggling voice in the back of her head was now echoing her mother's words at her, telling her what a little shrew she'd been. She'd known her father was upset and worried and angry, and that he would do everything he could to solve this insane situation, but . . . but she'd let her own reactions carry her away and hadn't thought things through.

"I won't say I'm disappointed in you, Jess, because you already know that, don't you?"

Jessie burst into tears and her mother put her arms around her. "It'll be all right, Jessie. I love you, and your father loves you. Now, pull yourself together and come down, okay?"

She nodded, and her mother gave her a tight squeeze and left, closing the door behind her, leaving her alone with her guilt.

* * *

Jack went back into Daniel's office to find him looking over Jonny's drawn out columns of figures. "This is really very impressive."

"He still seems to be upset that he can't remember every single one perfectly," Jack said.

Daniel grimaced. "I know. I can't seem to convince him that he's doing fine. Memory can be tricky. I suspect that once I've done some looking at what's here, I'll be able to suggest possibilities, and that may click things in for him."

"Sure." Jack gave Daniel an exasperated look. "So, how are you?"

"Me? I'm fine." Now Daniel was giving him a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because of what happened in the gateroom?" Jack said.

Daniel shrugged. "It sucked, but there's no point in talking about it."

Jack sighed. "Daniel, you came in here looking miserable. It would be better if you talked about it."

"About what?" the archeologist asked. His voice turned angry. "The fact that I just had to tell that poor man that the one thing he's been clinging to as an answer to his grief isn't actually out there?" Daniel shook his head. "Jack, that man's faith was destroyed in that room, and I don't know what he's going to find to replace it. Maybe nothing. Maybe something worse."

"What could be worse than believing that the Goa'uld are benevolent gods?" Jack asked. Daniel closed his eyes. "I know it's not that simple, but we destroy a lot of illusions, just by walking through that gate."

"But Jack, the gods existed for man long before the Goa'uld came to displace them," Daniel said heatedly. "There are gods we haven't found alien versions of, gods who Teal'c can't identify. People need faith to survive, to tell themselves that there's something worth going on for."

Jack hated watching his friend tie himself in knots over things that he couldn't fix. "Daniel, that man came through the gate. He saw things that didn't match what he expected. That's not your fault. It's not my fault. It's not SG-10's fault. It's not even his fault."

"It doesn't have to be anyone's fault to be a bad thing, Jack."

"I know that," Jack said. "I'm not saying it's not a bad thing, but I'm also not saying it is. We don't know what he'll make of this change in perspective. It could have a positive influence on him in the long run." Daniel glowered at him. "Okay, so that's lame. But there's only so much we can do, Daniel. All I'm saying is that you didn't destroy his faith. He took a rash action and did it to himself." The other man still looked unconvinced. "What exactly did you tell him?"

"Hey, did you guys know Teal'c was going offworld?" Carter asked, walking into Daniel's office. She looked at them. "Wait, where's Jonny?"

Jack leaned away from Daniel who looked distinctly relieved that their conversation had been interrupted, and gave Carter an irritable look. "Yes, Teal'c is going to Chulak to see if the rebel Jaffa can give us any leads on Thoth's whereabouts."

"I didn't know that," Daniel said.

"Well now you know," Jack said. "I hadn't had a chance to mention it. Why was SG-10 coming home early anyway?"

Daniel shrugged. "They needed a better linguist. They're going to contact you shortly to negotiate for some of my time."

"No!" Jack replied instantly. "Absolutely not. We've discussed this. You're my linguist."

"Yours?" Daniel asked, giving him a dubious look.

"Well, SG-1's. Back me up, Carter."

"Sir?" she said, eyes wide and innocent.

He grimaced. "This was settled after the whole unas incident. No more loans. If they need you, they get all of us."

"Jack, SG-1 can't go anywhere right now. We're looking after Jonny."

"So it will have to wait."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "That's what the general said, actually. Our focus at the moment is the retrieval of Dr. Quest and Hadji, so they want my services after that has been accomplished. You have plenty of time to marshal your arguments against it."

"I don't need time," Jack said. "I've already got it all figured out."

"Where's Jonny?" Carter asked, a hint of impatience in her voice.

"He's with the general," Jack said. "He wanted some help figuring what he could say in a letter to Bannon, and . . ." Jack shrugged. "I think General Hammond finds spending time with him kind of refreshing."

Carter nodded. "He's a nice kid."

"There has got to be some way of getting his guardian clearance," Daniel said, his lips tight. "It's a travesty to separate them like this when Jonny's so off balance."

"It's not that simple," Carter said. "This is a highly classified project. They're going to do their best to keep as many people out of it as possible, just on general principles."

"Jonny's a fifteen-year-old boy – he's a minor and he needs his guardian!"

"I know that, Daniel, but –"

Shaking his head vehemently, Daniel cut Carter off. "He's a former I-1 agent, for pity's sake. He's got to have enough clearance to come here. The only thing that can be holding it back is internal politics, and that's just so much bullshit."

Jack shrugged. "Jonny said he figured it was probably internal politics. Apparently there's some weird issue with how Bannon quit I-1 or something. I don't know any details. Something about Bannon having too much influence over Quest and the kids."

"Damn it!" Daniel growled. "Kids should not be caught up in that kind of thing. It's not fair to them."

"No one's disagreeing that it sucks, Daniel, but that's how it is," Jack said, remembering belatedly that Daniel had some issues where kids and guardians and custody were concerned. "We're doing everything we can."

Carter nodded. "We'll just have to offer him all our support," she said.

"I'd do that anyway," Daniel said, slumping on his stool. "It's just so wrong."

Carter stepped towards the table and looked down at Jonny's project. "Have you made anything of his columns yet?" she asked.

Daniel allowed Carter's change of subject to divert him, but Jack could tell he was still very stressed about Jonny's situation. "Not much so far. I was waiting for him to finish before I got too far into it. It's always better to have the most possible material when you're working on a translation, and this is a slightly unusual form of the language."

"In what way?" Carter asked. "It looks pretty normal to me."

Jack listened to Daniel's babble with half an ear while he explained the significant differences between the shapes of one set of undecipherable symbols and another set. He was as angry about Bannon's lack of clearance as Daniel was. Jonny had already had one parent taken from him, now the remaining one was being kept from him on the flimsy excuse of security clearance. Were they actually expecting that the boy wouldn't tell Bannon what had happened when he got home? That Quest wouldn't?

He wandered over to the sofa and looked down at the book he'd been reading. Picking it up, he sat down and started fiddling with it, still thinking, not even hearing Daniel and Carter's continuing conversation. What could he possibly do to catch Harry Maybourne's attention, and would Harry still have access to any data from the NID?

"Jack?" He looked up. From the expression on Daniel's face, he guessed that it wasn't the first time his name had been called. "You visiting someplace you want to tell us about?" Daniel asked.

Jack shrugged. "What's up?"

"It's time for lunch," Daniel said. "I wondered if we should stop by the general's office and see if Jonny's ready for some lunch or if he's eating with the general."

The phone rang and Daniel picked it up. Jack glanced at Carter. "I think we should probably stop by at the very least. He –"

"We'll swing by in a minute," Daniel said into the phone. "We were just thinking that it was time for lunch anyway." Jack stopped talking and shrugged. "We'll be there shortly."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Days passed and Jonny fell into a routine. He worked every day with Daniel, ate lunch with the team, minus Teal'c who was apparently off seeking information about Thoth. Jonny hoped he'd be all right, but Jack and Daniel seemed totally calm about it. He did some work with Sam, but he discovered something. He was a teenager. He thought he'd avoided that whole hormone thing pretty successfully, but when he was working alone with Sam in her lab, all he could think about how incredible it was to be alone with Sam. He didn't get anything done, and he felt like an idiot afterwards, so he'd decided to stick with working with Daniel. He just didn't know how to tell Sam why.

He'd written out all of the symbols from the columns that he could remember within the first three days, and Daniel had started working on the translation. Every so often, Jonny would have an inspiration and add in a new symbol, or Daniel would come to him with a list of possibilities that would jog his memory. It was appearing to be some kind of hymn of praise to . . . who else . . . Thoth.

Jonny wasn't working directly on it with Daniel for fear of tainting his memory with the context of the missing symbols. He wasn't even studying Goa'uld, for the same reason. Instead he was studying the Basque-based text Daniel had been working on. Daniel had suggested he try his own hand at translation and see how he fared. It was actually kind of fun.

Bandit hung around in Daniel's office with him, and when people came to visit, they almost always wound up scratching the little dog, which thrilled him to pieces. Bandit was having the time of his life. He hadn't been somewhere with so many new smells and so many total strangers who were friendly in a long time.

In the evenings he played games with Daniel, Jack and Sam, and some of their friends. General Hammond always stopped by to see how he was. Jonny felt very cared for. But he still wanted Race. And the general still reported failure on that score. They couldn't get the government to agree.

They'd brought a second computer into Daniel's office and put it on a small desk in a corner for Jonny. He had an internal e-mail account and access to mission reports and the archives of artifact images going back five or six years. It was an incredible wealth of knowledge in an area he hadn't ever explored, and Jonny felt like a kid in a candy store some of the time. But he got frustrated, knowing that it would be just as easy for them to give him e-mail access to Jessie and Race. They could even read the e-mail and censor it easily. He also knew that he could probably finagle it for himself if he tried, but that would be breaking trust with Daniel, Jack and General Hammond. Particularly with Daniel, because it would be under his nose. The archeologist might even get in trouble for it. Jonny wasn't to that point yet.

But enjoying himself also felt awful. He felt guilty, because his father and his brother were out there, who knew where, being tortured by aliens who controlled their bodies. He kept wondering what was happening to them, wherever they were. Had Thoth figured out that the Goa'uld inside Hadji didn't have complete control? What would the scholar of the Egyptian pantheon do at that point? He was reputed to have been a scientist of sorts, and the fact that no one here or among the Tok'ra had heard of a human successfully fighting a Goa'uld suggested that a scientist might find Hadji's apparent ability quite fascinating. What might he do to examine that?

The images that came to mind were horrifying, and they began to haunt his dreams at night. Both Jack and Daniel were becoming quite adept at waking him from nightmares without sending him into full blown panic, but because he knew they still didn't entirely believe that Hadji was in partial control of his body and mind, he couldn't bring himself to tell them.

He needed Race. He could tell Race anything. But the days went by and the people who decided who got which clearances showed no signs of relenting. And Jonny couldn't make his case to them in person. That was the hardest part of all. He wondered what would happen if he fell into some sort of deep depression.

Unfortunately none of the answers that came to mind would work in his favor. He didn't want to wind up on medication, or hidden away in some hospital somewhere.

He'd just have to keep working and hope that everything would turn out all right.

* * *

Jessie got up early Saturday morning and fixed breakfast. Her mother had been there for four days now, and despite the little talk they'd had, Jessie hadn't figured out how to patch things up with her dad. She didn't know how to apologize, and her mother wasn't helping much. She told her she needed to work it out on her own.

Her parents would be down in a few minutes, and she wanted to make a good impression on them. Like she was trying to make things better.

Eggs, sausage, pancakes. She balanced things as best she could, putting the browned sausage into the oven on low heat to keep them warm and leaving the eggs till last. She was frying pancakes when IRIS announced, "Motor vehicle approaching. License plate . . ." Jessie stopped listening and hit the remote to turn the TV to the closed circuit channel where IRIS was displaying a dark blue van with government plates. She saw the driver climb out and talk into the intercom. Her father must have intercepted the com, because she wasn't hearing anything. The driver was wearing green fatigues with Air Force patches.

When she saw the gates open, she snapped the stove off and ran upstairs. She'd been writing a letter to Jonny, and unless they were delivering him home, which seemed unlikely, this was her first good opportunity to send it.

She slammed her door open and sat down hastily to scrawl a few words to close the letter, then quickly sealed it into an envelope and ran back downstairs where she grabbed a care package she'd had waiting for just such an opportunity. She reached the door just as her father opened it and hurried out. She followed him, noticing that he, too, had paper and a package clutched in his hands. Since he'd actually talked to their guest, she assumed this meant it was some kind of courier, like she'd thought.

The van wasn't even close to there yet, as they both should have known. The grounds were pretty large, after all. This left them standing, alone, in the front walk of the house, each of them holding a package and a letter.

"Good morning, Jessie," her father said.

"Hi, Dad. I . . . uh . . . I was making breakfast."

He half-turned his head to look at her, and she looked down at her hands. "Did you turn off the stove?"

"I did," she said, looking up, feeling nettled that he'd felt the need to ask. Some of that must have shown in her voice, because his jaw tightened and he looked towards the drive without speaking. She flushed and looked down again, not sure what to say.

It took five more minutes for the van to get there.

The driver got out and walked up to her dad, a dark blue canvas zipper pouch in one hand and a clipboard in the other. "Mr. Bannon, I have some letters for you and your daughter. I need you to sign for them."

"Of course," Race said, taking the clipboard.

"Please read the document before signing, sir," the sergeant said. "And make sure your daughter understands the conditions of accepting her letter."

Her father scanned the document and handed it to Jessie who read it quickly. She grimaced sourly. It was an acknowledgment of the secret nature of the documents they were accepting and a promise to keep the documents and their contents confidential 'until such time as they were de-classified.'

She shook her head. "It's a letter from Jonny!" she exclaimed. "De-classified?"

"Jess," her father said, and she subsided.

"Right, I know. I agree."

Her father nodded and took the clipboard back, signing the document and handing it to the sergeant, who handed him the canvas pouch. "Any packages or letters you might want to send can be placed in here."

Jessie looked down at her care package and up at the canvas pouch, which was big enough to hold a couple of hardcover books, but not much more. "It won't fit," she said. "Does it have to fit?"

The sergeant looked down at the tin foil and cellophane-wrapped bundle. "I think I can find something that will work," he said with a smile, then he disappeared into the van.

"I suspect that they are feeding him, Jess," her father said with a small smile as he looked at the package in her hands. It was seeming embarrassingly large all of a sudden.

"But they're not feeding him Mrs. Evans' food. Besides, it's a taste of home, right?" She looked up at him, suddenly feeling desperate need of his approval.

He nodded with a more genuine smile. "Yes, Ponchita."

The sergeant emerged with a larger pouch and she handed him her package and her letter. Race gave him his. The man tucked the pouch away in the back of the van and said, "We're going to try and make these deliveries as regular as possible. I'm ordered to be here next Thursday, and someone will let you know if that will be delayed."

"Thank you, Sgt. Thomas."

The man nodded and gave her a smile, then got back into his van and drove away, leaving the pouch in her father's hands. He unzipped it and pulled out two letters that were addressed in a familiar hand. They weren't sealed, she saw, and her father grimaced sourly. "Censors, how charming."

"Censors?" she repeated. "They're censoring his mail?"

Race nodded and handed her letter to her. "It's pretty normal in a classified environment," he said, sighing.

As he started to turn away, she caught his arm. "Dad?"

He turned back, and she threw herself into his arms. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I've been a jerk."

He shrugged and hugged her back. "It's in the past, Ponchita. Let's worry about the future."

"Breakfast!" she exclaimed.

"If it's ruined, it's ruined," he said, keeping an arm around her shoulder and leading her on to the kitchen. "We can clean up and start over."

She nodded, but when they reached the kitchen, they found that Estella had taken up were Jessie had left off. A pile of pancakes stood steaming on a plate beside the stove, and the eggs were scrambled in the pan.

"Was it a letter from Jonny?" she asked as they came in.

"Two." Her father squeezed her and looked down at his own letter. "One for each of us."

Jessie pulled away and went over to the table and sat down, pulling her letter out of its envelope. "Don't they take razors to these things when they cut them?" she asked.

"Usually," Race said, pulling his own letter out.

"Then either they didn't censor this, or Jonny managed to write the perfect letter." There wasn't any sign of cutting in the page she had in her hand.

"I'm suspecting the latter, Ponchita," he said as he scanned the first lines of his letter. "Jonny clearly knew he was going to be scrutinized and wrote carefully with that in mind."

Jessie nodded and looked at her letter.

_Dear Jessie,_

_If I know you, and I do, you've been trying as hard as you can to figure out how to get me home. Let me tell you one thing. I've seen Bob, you know which Bob I mean, and I'm still not coming home. That should tell you something._

Jessie stared at that paragraph and shook her head. Her father noticed and said, "What is it, Jess?"

"He's seen the president," she said, feeling lost. "He's seen the president, and nothing's solved. That can't be a good sign.

Her father took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, it's not a good sign."

"But it's not the end of the world," her mother said firmly, placing plates of food in front of them. "Is it?"

Race shook his head. "No, Stell, it's not." He caught her hand as she started to move away. "Thank you," he said.

Jessie rolled her eyes at this extreme expression of appreciation for breakfast and returned to reading.

_Don't try to look for me, you'll only get in trouble, and I'm okay where I am. I wish you and Race were here, but I am fine. Don't try to look for Dad and Hadji, either, there's no point. I know exactly what resources we have, and we don't have the ones you'd need to find them. I know how hard it is to do nothing, but there's nothing you can do. Just try to hold Race together, okay? I know he's got to be going nuts right now._

_Jessie's eyes shot to her father's face. He was reading his own letter again, and she felt guilt wash over her. Here was Jonny asking her to take care of him, not knowing she'd been such a bitch. He'd be pissed if he knew. She gulped and looked down at the words, hoping her eyes would stay clear of tears long enough for her to read them._

_So, here's one for the record books. I got hurt, and badly, so I don't get to play this time. I'm helping and watching from the sidelines, but my ankle is broken in such a way that I can't even have a walking cast. You and Hadji are always joking that since the corporation I seem to be made of steel, but I fell down and broke myself._

_Now, for the serious stuff. This is going to sound completely insane, but if you see Dad or Hadji, I want you to run. I mean it. Run, don't walk. DO NOT trust them! If you can remember the time that Jeremiah Surd tried to brainwash you into trying to kill your dad, multiply it by about ten, and that's what you're dealing with. They'll seem like them, but they won't be them, and there won't be any way in hell you can get through to them. I can't tell you how or why this has happened, but you have to believe me, Jess. I've seen them both, and they are not the people we know._

_I've told your dad most of the same stuff in the letter I wrote to him._

She looked up. "Dad, have you –"

"The stuff about Benton and Hadji?" he asked. "Yes."

"What does he mean?"

He shook his head, looking baffled. "I don't know, but Jonny's never been an alarmist."

"What does he say?" her mom asked.

Race bit his lip and then read aloud. "'If you see Dad or Hadji, DO NOT –' that's in caps and underlined," he said. "'DO NOT trust them. They aren't the people you know, no matter how much they act like it or look like it. There is something seriously freaky going on, and it's part of what I can't tell you."

Estella sat down and looked at Race. "That's a little alarming."

"It's a lot alarming," Jessie said. "He compared it to the time Surd tried to get me to kill you, Dad."

"Did he?" Her father's eyes narrowed. "May I see?" he asked, putting his hand out.

"I haven't finished reading it yet," she said, moving the letter closer to herself.

He nodded understanding and looked down the page in front of him. From this she deduced that he hadn't finished his either.

_Thanks for the cookies and stuff, by the way. It was nice. One of my new friends likes the chocolate chip ones, you can tell Mrs. Evans that._

_Oh, I just thought of something. If they let you send stuff, could you get my language books together and send them here? I want to check some stuff in a couple of them, but I'm not sure which._

_Anyway, I'm still asking for you guys to come, but I'm seriously doubting that they'd let you. Maybe Race. Don't be mad if that happens, it's nothing personal. You know how adults can be about us. But I miss you, and I wish you were here._

_Bandit is barking by my knee. He seems to think it's time for me to give him a treat. I'd better ask someone to get me some. Anyway, thanks for what you sent, don't get in trouble . . . don't trust Dad and Hadji._

_Love,_

_Jonny_

"He's really emphasizing that, isn't he?" her mother said, and Jessie saw that she was reading Race's letter over his shoulder. "'If you see Dad or Hadji, don't stick around,'" she read aloud. "'Get out of there. Don't fight them.' That just . . . don't fight them? To you?"

Her dad was shaking his head. "If he said it, he means it. It's not code, it's not anything we have prearranged. And the government let it through, which leads me to believe that the threat is real."

"So someone's brainwashed Dr. Quest and Hadji?" Jessie said disbelievingly.

"I don't think it's brainwashing, Jess," her father said. "I think it is them, though. I don't know what to make of it, but the comparison he makes for my benefit is that doppelganger that came after us once from Zin, and how easily they all were taken in by him. If it was brainwashing, I'd think he'd have said something about what happened to you."

She shook her head. "But that doesn't make any sense. If you take both our comparisons to be valid, you've got someone who is them, but is pretending to be them at the same time. How does that work?"

"They may simply be comparisons," her mom said. "Don't over complicate things. It doesn't have to be that specific."

"I guess not," Jessie said, handing her letter to her father. "It's just my instinct to try and fit things together." She looked down at the food on her plate. "I'm not as hungry as I thought."

"Eat, young lady," her mother said sternly. "You, too, Race," she added. "You two are entirely too much alike."

Jessie glanced at her father, who had looked away from the letter to glower darkly at his plate, and at her mother, who was still bustling around the stove even though breakfast was done. "Mom," she said," I'll clean everything up later. Sit down with us."

When there was no immediate response, Race stood up, walked over and made up a plate for her. Then he took the utensils out of her hands. "Join us, Stell," he said, leading her to the table by the hand. She sat and they all started eating.

Silence reigned in the kitchen for several minutes, then Jessie couldn't stand it. "Why does the Air Force have him anyway?" she asked. "What's their interest in Jonny?"

Race shrugged. "I have a feeling that he somehow got into the middle of some military project or other, something that may not even be directly related to whatever's happened to Benton and Hadji."

Jessie shook her head, frustrated beyond words. She got up. "I'll clean up, but I need to go for a walk first."

They nodded and she left the house for the fresh air outside. She had to get away or she was going to start screaming, and there was no one to scream at here who deserved it.

* * *

Estella put a hand on his and said, "Race, what is it?"

He looked up with his best blank look. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I could see it when Jessie asked what the Air Force wanted with Jonny. There was something you were holding back. I don't think she picked up on it, but I've had a few more years with you as an adult. What is it?"

He pursed his lips and sighed. "Let's go somewhere else, so we're not as likely to be interrupted."

She followed him up to the room he used as his office on the second floor and he closed the door behind her. Flipping on the monitors, he set one of them to watch Jessie. With all the strange stuff going on, he didn't feel entirely comfortable with her wandering too far alone and unobserved.

Estella glanced over and her eyes widened. "Do you do that a lot?"

"Not normally, but with what's been going on . . ."

"Right . . ." She watched silently for a moment as their daughter wandered down to the edge of the water. "So, what is it?"

"This goes back a ways," he said.

She glowered at him. "I hate it when you start things like this, Race. What is it?"

He crossed his arms irritably. "When the corporation took Jonny, they gave him some IQ tests, and Benton sensed a surge of interest in Jonny afterwards that alarmed him. He mentioned it to Phil, and I'm not sure exactly where else it was mentioned, but I do know that during one of those standard tests the school system gives the kids to make sure we're teaching them adequately, a ringer was slipped in. They gave Jonny some decidedly non-standard tests, and not too long after that someone from the NID came around to ask for permission to work with Jonny."

"He's a teenager!" she exclaimed.

Race nodded. "They want to groom him. Those were the words Benton used at any rate. I didn't see them. The visit was nicely timed for when I was out of the house."

"Charming," she said. "And it's just Jonny they're interested in?"

"After some serious effort, Phil managed to get hold of the test results," Race said. "If Jonny ever reaches his potential, he'll be beyond brilliant, from the looks of things. Not in the same way Benton is brilliant, either. In the analysis, they called him an intuitive genius."

"Wait, and the government's got him now?"

Race nodded and she looked suitably appalled. "The one thing that's keeping me from going nuts is that Phil seems calm about it, so he must think that the folks who have him are okay."

"You don't . . ." She paused, looking uneasy. "You don't think that they grabbed the three of them to get Jonny, do you?"

Race shook his head. "I really doubt it. For one thing, that letter is genuine, and for them to get Jonny to write a letter like that, they'd have had to convince him of what he told us. He's not an easy kid to lie to. First, he looks up at you with apparent innocent trust, then he sees right through whatever you do try to say. He's incredibly perceptive."

"And intuitive," she added, nodding.

"So no, I don't think this was a deliberate attempt to get hold of Jonny. What I think, though, is that there are those who would consider it to be an incredible opportunity to get control of Jonny without any interference from his father or his brother. I don't know what that would do to him." He bit his lip. "For all his strengths, he's a pretty vulnerable kid, and with the undiagnosed PTSD plain to see in his records, they could manipulate him to a fare thee well." Estella raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the letter. "Not this quickly," he said. "And not like that."

"But you _are _his legal guardian," she said. "Don't they have to bow to that at some point?"

"I'm a bodyguard," he replied, shaking his head. "They could, with the right lawyers and the right judge, make mincemeat of my guardianship and yours."

"We got it legally witnessed," she protested. "Benton's lawyers are the best."

"And all they have to do is cry 'undue influence' into a sympathetic ear, Stell," he said. "I'm not kidding, it's as easy as that, and there have been people implying that I was playing that sort of game for years now." He shook his head. He'd had no idea that Estella was still so innocent where politics were concerned.

"But that would involve court visits. Someone would ask Jonny."

"And if Jonny said that he wanted me to be his guardian, don't you think any halfway competent lawyer on the other side would point to it as evidence of my influence?" She grimaced and conceded the point. "I can't win, Stell, not with the folks we'd be going up against. That's one of the reasons I've been playing it so casual. I don't want them to decide I'm a threat."

"And all of this over a fifteen-year-old boy."

"All of this over a fifteen-year-old genius who's got an educational head start on his peers that amounts to most of the race, and who's already experienced with the ins and outs of politics, the criminal underworld, terrorist tactics, ad nauseum. The only reason we don't have anyone else out here salivating over him is that the NID are keeping the knowledge very close to their chests because they don't want to be scooped by anybody else." He shook his head. "I hate to think what Zin would make of this information."

"Does Hadji know?"

Race didn't respond immediately, contemplating the sober young man, just days away from this eighteenth birthday now. "I think he suspects," he said finally. "We've never told him, if that's what you're asking." She nodded. "But I think Hadji may have known all along. He's a pretty sharp kid himself, and he thinks around corners. I . . ." Race shrugged. "I used to think Jonny would grow up more like me. He didn't seem to have the same . . . I don't know . . . whatever it is that Benton, Hadji and Jessie have that make them so obviously . . ."

"Smart?" Estella demanded sharply. "This isn't the 'I'm a dumb grunt' thing again, is it? Please tell me it's not."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not."

"Good, because I don't want to argue with you right now."

"Still, standing next to Benton, I –"

"Don't be an ass, Race," she growled. "Everyone feels that way next to Benton."

"The point is, I thought Jonny would be like me, not stupid, but not of Benton's caliber, but I think Hadji's known all along that his brother was more than he seemed. But then that's Hadji." He sighed. "They're just plain scary, taken together. Add Jessie into the mix . . ." He shook his head, glancing back at the monitor. Jessie had settled down on the beach, arms wrapped around her legs as she stared out over the gray water.

"Are you saying that your own daughter frightens you?" Estella asked, an amused twist to her lips.

"Of course not," Race said. "It's just . . . I don't know where she came from."

"If you start talking about your lack of brains again, I'll brain you," she growled.

He shook his head. "No, it's not that, Stell. I'm no fool. I couldn't hold my own as much as I do with Benton if I was stupid," he said. "I just . . . I look at me and I look at you, and, forgive me, Stell, but I don't see where she came from. We're both bright people, but she outstrips us both by miles."

Estella nodded. "I guess I see what you mean."

"But she's a more typical genius than Jonny . . . very focused in one area."

Estella gazed at the image on the monitors. "She'd tell us we were crazy if she could hear us."

"Maybe." He sighed. "But regardless, the NID are convinced that Jonny is the next white hope of the intelligence community and they want him to belong to them."

Estella looked unhappy. "And what can we do to stop it?"

"At the moment, not a damned thing." Race's hand clenched into a fist. "Not a damned thing."

* * *

Klorel did not have free run of the ship, but he did have limited access beyond the room he'd been assigned. Thus far Hadji had not been forced to hand over as much information as he'd have expected, because Thoth was spending a lot of time closeted up, doing some kind of research. He had instructed Klorel to engage in kelanir for an hour each morning, which he was doing. Hadji had figured out, after the first several times, how to piggy-back into the meditative state. He was having trouble absorbing the knowledge, but he thought that was in part because the method of storage was so alien.

So far all he'd really picked up was the structure of the Goa'uld mind. It appeared that there were, in essence, two minds. One was the individual's mind, Klorel's personality, specific personal experiences, and that sort of thing. It was very shallow, but Klorel was quite young. Hadji wondered if an older Goa'uld would have a deeper feel to it, or if that was as individual as it was with humans. The other mind was buried beneath even the subconscious level, and seemed to contain a vast wealth of information.

It was that information that Hadji was having difficulty gleaning. He insinuated himself into Klorel's meditative state yet again, attempting to penetrate into that deeper mind, hoping that would give him a clearer understanding of what he was up against.

Finally, he succeeded, achieving the level of meditation required to explore the knowledge in that hereditary memory bank. Instantly, repugnance and horror overcame him. He thrust his mind away so violently that it turned into a physical movement that catapulted him from the cross legged position he'd been sitting in onto his stomach on the floor where he began to convulse uncontrollably.

His guards entered the room and restrained him despite the spasms that wracked his body. They carried him to an ornate room he hadn't seen before, which seemed to serve as an infirmary. A man with dark kohl around his eyes examined him and gave him a muscle-relaxing drug that stilled the seizures.

"What seems to be the trouble, Klorel?" he asked. Hadji was unable to answer, predictably enough. The muscle relaxant was too powerful to permit him to speak coherently, which was probably fortunate, because he was having trouble stifling irrelevant emotional reactions at the moment.

All he wanted to do was yell at the man. "The trouble is that I am having convulsions, you idiot!" It struck him as an unhelpful thing to say, but the urge was overpowering. It occurred to him that Klorel would probably say just that, so it would probably go unremarked if he did.

The physician, or whatever he was, ran several tests on Hadji's non-responsive body, then placed a kind of filigree helmet around Hadji's head. Hadji could hear him fiddling with equipment beyond his head, but he couldn't turn to see what it was. After several moments, he said, "Go find my lord Thoth and tell him that there is something he should see."

Hadji wanted desperately to know what was going on, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even consult Klorel, because the monster within still seemed to be deep in meditation . . . only it didn't quite feel like meditation . . .

When Thoth finally came, Hadji had begun to regain control of his body again. The drug was burning off.

"What is it, Tabeh?" Thoth asked.

"Look here, my lord," Tabeh said. "I have taken a scan of the –"

"I see." Thoth was silent for a moment, and Tabeh remained quiet as well. Hadji was just beginning to feel that he could turn his head to see them when he head footsteps approaching. He looked up into the eyes of the Goa'uld that inhabited his father's face. "Klorel, what happened?"

Hadji blinked. "I do not know, lord," he said.

"Do you not? Tell me how it began."

"I was entering into kelanir when –"

A hard hand interrupted him, striking his cheek and sending him rolling off the exam bed. He scrambled towards his feet, but the same hand wrapped itself in his hair and yanked his head back and his legs collapsed beneath him. "You are not Klorel," Thoth said with certainty.

"I am –" Hadji started, but Thoth tightened the hand in his hair and twisted his neck further. He broke off with a squeak.

"How have you achieved this, human?" Thoth demanded. "How have you done this?"

Hadji recognized that he could no longer pretend to be Klorel It wasn't working anymore, and it would only anger Thoth further. "I do not know what has happened," he said. His voice sounded harsh and desperate to his own ears.

"What do you recall?"

Hadji shook his head, and Thoth lifted him by the hair and threw him against the wall. His body slammed full length against the unforgiving bulkhead, and the relief work dug into him. He clutched at it to hold himself upright and turned to face Thoth. It was horrible to see that murderous anger in the eyes of his father.

"You will tell me what has happened or I will destroy you," Thoth said.

Hadji drew in a breath. Somewhere very high up on all of Race's lists of rules regarding what they were to do if captured was a one-word instruction: Survive. Getting himself killed now wouldn't save his father, and he had no useful knowledge that his father didn't also have. His death would serve no purpose at the moment.

"Klorel never gained full control over my body," Hadji said. Tabeh was standing behind Thoth and his jaw dropped. The Jaffa all looked astonished. Thoth merely listened, eyes intent on Hadji's face. "We've fought almost constantly from the start. Control has gone back and forth."

"And in your fighting you dealt one another mental blows of some kind?" Thoth asked.

"No," Hadji replied. He was feeling decidedly different, almost as if Klorel was actually gone, though there was just the faintest sense of weight in his mind that he associated with the Goa'uld. "No, we just grabbed control back and forth. More like a game of keep away than a boxing match."

Thoth seemed to process this, and Hadji came to the sick realization that he was using Dr. Quest's mind as a sort of superior database. Finally, he said, "Then what happened today?"

"I'm not altogether sure," Hadji replied.

Thoth leaned in close, their faces bare inches apart. "Do not lie to me, boy. You are less to me than Klorel was, and he was little enough."

"You want information that I have," Hadji said. "Now that you know that Klorel has not taken over, I have no incentive to cooperate with him."

Thoth stepped back, his eyes grown calculating. "You do not know. You truly do not know."

"Know what?" Hadji demanded. "What don't I know?"

"Klorel is in a coma within you. The brain patterns from his mind are so faint they are barely discernible." Hadji gaped at him. "It is not a state that Goa'uld minds enter into. I had to find the word in your father's vocabulary. I wish to know how you have achieved this."

"Me too," Hadji said. "I have no idea. I –"

"What did you do?" Thoth demanded. "Or is Klorel simply too weak to control a human?"

"He controlled Skaara," Hadji remarked.

"How do you know that name?"

Hadji blinked. "Is it not normal for the host to know the Goa'uld's mind?" he asked.

Thoth turned to his Jaffa. "Bring him," he ordered, then he stalked out of the room. The Jaffa grabbed Hadji, who was in no state to resist them, and dragged him after their master in his stolen body. Hadji couldn't really gain his feet because he hadn't fully recovered himself, but they barely let his feet touch the floor in any case, carrying him along between them like so much baggage.

Thoth led them to the space he seemed to use as a research library and sat down behind his desk. The Jaffa forced Hadji down to his knees before him. Thoth was gazing at him thoughtfully, and Hadji didn't know what he could possibly be thinking. Fear threaded through his gut because he didn't know what to expect.

Finally, Thoth said, "How much the host knows depends entirely on what the Goa'uld allows him to know. What, exactly, did Klorel allow you to be privy to?"

Hadji recognized this as a time when honesty was the best policy. For one thing, he didn't know which lies would benefit him, so the truth was safer. "He didn't allow anything," Hadji said. "If anyone was allowing anything, it was me."

Thoth's eyes widened and there was a brief pause. "You hid your knowledge from him?"

"I hid myself from him entirely," Hadji said. "When you asked him questions, he had to ask me the answers."

"That is . . . hard to believe."

Hadji shrugged. "It is the truth. What good would it do me to lie about this?"

"I have never noticed humans to be logical creatures," Thoth observed. "However, your father is a man of great sense and practicality, and he sees you as a young man with a very level head."

Anger surged through Hadji, and if the Jaffa had not maintained their hold on his shoulders, he might have launched himself at Thoth. "Do not speak of my father!" he growled.

Thoth ignored both the outburst and the brutal efficiency with which the Jaffa subdued him. "So, if it was not a deliberate assault, how did Klorel wind up in this state?"

Hadji shrugged. "I was attempting to join him in kelinar, to see what knowledge it is he was attempting to assimilate. I . . ." He grimaced. "I panicked when I finally penetrated to that submind, and I . . . perhaps I trapped his mind there, or did some kind of psychic damage when I fled."

"You penetrated to the submind?" Thoth asked incredulously.

"And left as fast as I could!" Hadji assured him. "It is no wonder that you are all mad."

Thoth let the weight of his gaze rest on Hadji until he looked away. There was no profit in challenging the monster who held his father's body hostage to his will. "You intrigue me, boy. Can you tell me much about Apophis?"

Hadji blinked. "What do you mean? Is he not dead?"

"He is," Thoth said, smiling grimly. "And I know a great deal about him." Hadji gulped, alarmed. "That is why I ask. I wish to test this knowledge of yours. If I find that you have lied . . . let us just say that not only will I make you wish you hadn't, I will force your father to watch every moment of what I do to you."

Hadji glared up at the malevolent creature, but he had little choice and nothing to protect. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before telling Thoth everything he knew about Apophis.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Jack walked into Daniel's office and stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the two heads leaning close together as they discussed a text in some language that was related to Arabic. Jonny shook his head. "No, the context is all wrong, even assuming a different environment." Jack kept listening, but Jonny's argument lost him quickly. Daniel started out looking dubious, but as Jonny made his case, it was clear that the boy was winning him over.

"I see your point," he said finally. "But what if –"

Jack cleared his throat. "Sorry, guys, but I've got to interrupt." The pair looked up, and Jack was interested to knot that Daniel looked surprised to see him, but Jonny didn't, as if the boy had already noticed his presence. "Hammond wants to see us both, Dannyboy." He looked at Jonny. "Can you hang out here by yourself for a little while?"

Jonny nodded, grinning briefly. "I'll be fine."

"You can keep working on this," Daniel said. "My files on the other Arabic languages are –"

"In that filing cabinet under 'A' for Arabic," Jonny said, rolling his eyes. "I think I can find stuff. And I promise not to climb on any chairs or try to walk, or do anything else dumb."

Daniel nodded and started towards the door. Then he paused and scanned the shelves. "Here," he said, walking over. "Let me pull a couple of references down in case you need them."

"Daniel, if I get desperate for a book on the top shelf, I'll just call Cameron. He's only two offices down, and he said he'd be there all day."

Jack took Daniel firmly by the arm, took the two books he'd already pulled off the shelf and put them on the table where Jonny could easily reach them, then steered the archeologist out of the room. "Gone all mother hen, I see," he said, amused.

Daniel pulled him the opposite direction and Jack went along without protesting, figuring he knew what the other man was up to. "Cam?" Daniel said, sticking his head into Balinsky's office.

Balinsky looked up. "Yeah, Daniel?"

"I've been called into a meeting with the general, and we're leaving Jonny alone in my office. Could you look in on him for me?"

Balinsky nodded. "Sure. You know, I took a class from his father once. An in-depth course on dating methods." Jack had to repress a highly inappropriate image of a class discussion on the merits of the standard dinner and a movie date. "A hell of a teacher, that man," Balinsky added, calling Jack's mind back to reality.

"So I've heard," Daniel said.

They headed towards the elevator, and while they were waiting for it to come, Jack tilted his head. "Didn't Carter say she'd taken a class from Dr. Quest?"

"She did," Daniel replied.

"So this guy teaches anthropologists –"

"That would have been archeology, I'd imagine." Daniel said. "You know, the various methods for dating artifacts?"

"Oh. Right. He teaches archeologists and astrophysicists? Both?"

Daniel shrugged. "He's got a broad field of knowledge," he said. "Unfortunately, I was just never in the right place at the right time to take so much as a seminar from him."

Jack nodded. "So, you seem to be pretty fussed about leaving Jonny alone. Don't you think he's ready?"

Daniel's eyes narrowed in perplexity. "I don't know what you mean. We talked about this the other day. I think he'll be fine alone for short stretches of time. I wouldn't leave him alone for a whole day, but a couple of hours shouldn't be a problem."

"You just seemed extremely concerned."

Daniel shook his head. "I'm really not sure what you're talking about, Jack." The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. "Are they going to get Jonny a card so he can move about from one level of the base to another without company?" he asked.

Jack grimaced. "I asked security that very question this morning, and they can't decide. Since the damned things are completely programmable, I can't imagine what the problem is. He needs one from a safety angle, if nothing else. If there's a fire on the floor he's on, he needs to be able to retreat to another."

"We'll have to mention it to the general," Daniel suggested.

"No," Jack said, grinning. "We should have it in the morning. I spoke very firmly to them."

"Did you leave anyone bleeding?" Daniel asked.

"That wasn't necessary," Jack said and Daniel nodded knowingly.

They reached the briefing room to find that Teal'c was sitting at the table with Carter and General Hammond, no doubt fresh from the shower after his medical exam. Jack saw the surprise on Daniel's face and realized that he'd neglected to tell the archeologist what the meeting was about.

"When did you get back?" Daniel asked, giving Jack a mild glare.

"Approximately forty-five minutes ago," Teal'c said.

"Teal'c was about to give us a report on what he discovered," General Hammond said.

Jack sat down next to Daniel and gave the Jaffa his whole attention.

"I wish I had more to report," Teal'c replied soberly. "To start with, Thoth was once one of the system lords, but he left that body several hundred years ago. According to Apophis, he was thrown out. I had never questioned this information, but I have been told a different tale by several independent sources."

"Really?" Jack asked. "Apophis lied? Imagine that."

Teal'c paused, raised an eyebrow at him, then went on. "It seems that he withdrew from the system lords in disgust, declaring that the group of them had become too conservative, too stagnated, and too debauched. He suggested, I am told, that staying in one body for millennia had stupefied their intellects, leaving them unfit for anything beyond dissipation, wanton warfare and self-indulgence."

"Wow," Jack said.

"I thought that's what being a system lord was all about?" Daniel asked.

"Evidently Thoth did not think so," Teal'c replied. "He left and disregarded them. An attempt was made to bring him back under the control of the system lords, but it failed because he had technology of a different order and used unexpected tactics." At their curious expressions, Teal'c shrugged. "No one I spoke to could be more specific."

"Wait," Jack said. "You're saying that he had better toys, but he didn't beat up all the kids on the playground for their lunch money?"

"He did not," Teal'c said. "It is one of the reasons that the other Goa'uld think he is weak."

"But that doesn't sound much like a Goa'uld," Jack said.

"Maybe he's biding his time for something," Carter suggested.

"A Goa'uld," Jack said. "Biding his time . . . patiently . . . for more than a hundred years. Again, does that sound much like a Goa'uld to you?" Carter shrugged uncertainly.

"When Ra died, Thoth immediately annexed about half of his territory and held it against the others, but he has made no other aggressive move."

"But that doesn't mean he won't," Jack observed.

"No, it does not" Teal'c said. "There are suspicions that he is, indeed, biding his time," he continued, nodding at Carter.

"So, do you have any information regarding where he is?" Hammond asked.

Teal'c shook his head, looking perturbed. "I was unable to discover anything of consequence, I am afraid. He is a recluse, and no one has dared to visit any of his planets since Apophis sent a few Jaffa to find out what they could about his plans. They returned, but each of their symbiotes had been injected with a substance that rotted them from the inside out."

"Ick," Jack said.

"Indeed," Teal'c replied. "Apophis had their symbiotes replaced so that they could speak, but the chemical had infected the Jaffa as well, and they passed it back to the symbiotes. None of them lived more than a week after their return, and they had no useful information."

"So what do we do now?" Carter asked. "I have very little to go on. We know the shape of the anomaly the craft left in the radar net around the planet, and we've tried to set a few more precautions in place to warn against future incursions, but there really doesn't seem to be any way to track it."

"And we haven't heard back from the Tok'ra yet," General Hammond observed.

"Maybe we should contact them again," Daniel said. "Maybe they just don't realize how –"

"Unscheduled offworld activation."

At the calm announcement, they all jumped to their feet and went hastily down to the control room. By the time they got there, Harriman turned and said, "It's the Tok'ra, sir."

"Speak of the devil," Hammond muttered. "Open the iris and signal them though."

Harriman got to work and the others followed Hammond down to the gateroom to await the emissary.

Almost as soon as the iris pulled back out of the way, Jacob Carter came through the gate. He looked absolutely appalled as he headed straight for the general. "Please, George, please tell me they've got it wrong." Without waiting for his answer, he put an arm around Carter who smiled to see him. "Please tell me that Benton Quest has not been taken by the Goa'uld."

"I wish I could," Hammond said. "He's been taken as a host by Thoth, and some lesser Goa'uld has been placed in Hadji Quest."

Jacob's face went strange for a moment, then Selmak spoke. "Thoth, you say? That is very alarming."

"Ya think!" Jack said, but Hammond glared at him and he fell silent.

Selmak turned to him. "I do indeed think it is alarming," she said. "Anise has been attempting to get the import of the situation across to the council. I will add my voice to hers."

The face made another shift. "But I would like to see Jonny first, if that's possible," Jacob said.

"Of course, Jacob," Hammond said. "I didn't know you knew Jonny."

"Neither did I," Carter said, looking askance at her father.

"I met him about four years ago, actually," Jacob said. "But the whole event was top secret, so I never discussed it." He looked around. "Where is he?"

"He's in my office," Daniel said. The archeologist glanced at General Hammond and got the okay. "This way, Jacob."

The Air Force general turned Tok'ra gave his daughter a tight squeeze and followed Daniel.

* * *

Jonny kept working on the translation. He thought Daniel had let himself get a little too free form in his thinking, and so far as he could tell, the rest of the text was bearing him out. When he'd finished, he went back and took it from the point of their divergence and followed the translation the rest of the way out Daniel's way. To his chagrin, it worked, and it meant something very different, but not sufficiently different that it was obvious which was right. He was glaring down at the errant pieces of paper when an airman came in.

"I have your mail, Jonny," Airman Pfitzer said. They'd gotten to talking over lunch the day before about _Xena, Warrior Princess_, a show that Jonny had enjoyed for the first several seasons. He'd missed a lot of episodes, especially later on, and Pfitzer had filled him in on some of the more ludicrous turns of events.

"Thanks, Josh," he said. Pfitzer left and Jonny looked at them. There were two letters, one from Race and one from Jessie, and a large bundle. He stared at them, not sure what he wanted to do. If he read them immediately, he'd have to wait for as long as it took to get more, but if he didn't, he'd have them sitting there, driving him crazy. And which one did he want to read first?

Finally, he slit Race's open and started reading.

_Dear Jonny,_

_We all miss you very much and are doing what we can to get things straightened out so that we can see you. Mrs. Evans has asked after you daily, and she sends her love. Estella is here staying with us, and she sends her love as well. I hope you're well and that you are behaving yourself._

Jonny knew what that meant. Race was reminding him of two things. One, that he still needed to follow the family rules. Most of those regarded what to do when in unfriendly custody, but there were a few that were relevant to this situation. The second thing Race wanted him to remember was that he needed to follow the rules that were set down for him here because if he didn't, there was a significant chance that it would be held against them.

He wondered what had brought Estella to Maine, though.

_Jessie is neglecting her studies. I can't imagine why, but she is. I hope you aren't. You have a fair amount to catch up with in terms of American history. If you can get ahold of some books, I want you to focus some time on the French and Indian War. I may just send a test for you to complete if I don't see you soon. And believe me, it will be open book, with all that entails._

Jonny groaned. Race's open book tests were legend among the kids. He seemed to regard the fact that they could look up whatever they might need to know as a challenge, so he asked the most persnickety questions, many of which seemed to require essays. Jonny recalled one of his peers commenting that he loved doing essay tests because it was so easy to fake it. That kid had clearly never taken a class from Race or from Jonny's father, who both seemed to cotton on to the vaguest hint of padding instantly.

_Mr. Evans has caught himself a white hake that he seems to think might be a record breaker. He's looking into it, so we'll see. Mrs. Evans is very proud of him. I'll let you know how close he came to the record as soon as I know. We do know he broke Joe Titus' record, which may be enough to satisfy him when all's said and done._

Jonny grinned. The whole town knew about that pair of men's ongoing unspoken competition, and it was occasionally very funny to watch them challenge each other.

_I keep looking around for you and Bandit, or your father and Hadji. The family feels fractured, but we'll bring it together again. We always do._

_Take care of yourself._

_Love,_

_Race_

Jonny grimaced to keep his emotions in, but Race was a good correspondent under the circumstances. Very matter-of-fact, very calm, making just the right sorts of promises. Jonny flipped Jessie's letter over and slit it open. He didn't know what to expect from her. He pulled out the sheet of paper and blinked. She appeared to have been a little more prolific than her father.

He started reading.

_Dear Jonny,_

_I can't tell you how frustrating it is that I can't do anything to fix this. You know how I am about these things, and I'm about to go nuts! I miss you, I miss your dad and I miss Hadji. I wish I was with you, helping however I could._

Jonny did, too. She was going to be full of questions when he got back and he probably wasn't going to be able to answer a lot of them. If she were here, he wouldn't have that problem. He sighed and went on reading.

_Mrs. Evans and I have put together a care package for you. We tried to include some of everything, but since she says the chocolate chip cookies are your favorite, we baked a bunch of those for you. If all goes well, we'll be sending it with this letter._

Cookies? Jonny eyed the bundle. There were more than cookies in there, he'd wager. Did they think the Air Force was starving him? He grinned, though, and peeled back some of the wrapping to snag out a rich fudge caramel brownie.

_Mom's here, which is helping me out a lot, and it's helping Dad. They're getting along really well. She seems to have cut out on a bunch of the seminar things she's usually doing at this time of year, and she says she has no intention of going back to work. The dig was closed down indefinitely because of some problems in the region, so she's taking advantage of it to take some time off. I'm just as glad, because Dad and I don't do so well alone when things get stressful._

Jonny blinked. That was news to him. Race was always the rock he clung to when things got too crazy. He couldn't imagine having problems with him . . . but then he thought about Jessie's temperament. She had a tendency to let it all hang out emotionally, and she didn't always understand people who didn't act that way. That could get messy with the phlegmatic way Race reacted to crisis.

_I miss you and Hadji. I'm being stupid over here, and I don't have either of you to point it out before I act on it. Dad's okay, but he's really upset. I've never seen him this upset before. I didn't see it at first, but now that it's been pointed out to me, it's plain as the nose on my face._

Licking his lips, Jonny swallowed. Race was more upset than Jessie'd ever seen him? Race didn't get upset. It didn't make sense. Jessie being stupid he could see, but Race being upset just didn't compute.

_He's really trying to get in to see you, but I guess all the channels are closed right now. You know how that can be._

Did he ever. He wanted to write some serious letters to the people in charge, but he didn't know who they were, and he doubted very much that they'd listen. Especially if people like Colonel Simmons were talking to them. It was infuriating how often twerps like Simmons seemed to have so much more influence than people like General Hammond. Probably it was because General Hammond didn't suck up or throw his weight around, which is part of what made him a decent sort of man.

And that just made it worse.

_What's weird is that they haven't given us even a hint of a cover story, and people are getting curious about where you all are. I don't even answer the phone because I don't know what to say. Maybe you could say something to someone. I don't know if the people you're actually with can do anything about that, but it's getting a little troublesome on our end._

Maybe General Hammond could solve that. Jonny made a mental note to mention it to Jack or Daniel the next time he saw them. He looked up at the clock. It had been quite awhile now. He wondered when they were coming back.

_Anyway, I wonder what Bandit would think if I got a cat. Pets are supposed to be good for stress relief, and you need him more than I do, but . . ._

This was the end of a page. Jonny stared at it in shocked disbelief. A cat? A _cat?!_ It wasn't that Jonny had any profound objections to cats, but Bandit did and Jessie knew it. Bandit would come unglued if they came home and there was a cat living in the compound.

He flipped the page only to be greeted by a great big smiley with a tongue stuck out. With growing annoyance and amusement, he read on.

_I'm imagining the horrified look on your face and giggling. Don't worry, I have no plans to get a cat. I'm too busy watching Mom and Dad act . . . I don't know, it's not lovey dovey, but they're not sniping at all. It's weird. They're acting like . . . I don't know._

_I do think the squirrels have noticed Bandit's absence however. Maybe I should find myself a substitute dog to borrow so that they won't get too uppity while he's gone._

His eyes began to burn, and he was glad to see that there wasn't much left. The last thing he wanted was to be found crying over a letter in Daniel's office.

_Anyway, I look forward to seeing you soon. I can't wait till you're all back._

_Love,_

_Jessie_

_P.S. Dad's really not coping. Mom's gone all gooey on him. Write as often as they'll let you. I think it might help._

That opened the floodgates. Tears began to pour down Jonny's face and he felt a hiccoughing sob in his chest. He grabbed a couple of tissues from the box Daniel kept handy . . . for his allergies, or so he claimed . . . and buried his face in the flimsy protection the thin paper offered.

Footsteps behind him made him strive desperately, and fruitlessly, to control the sobs that were making his shoulders shudder. Suddenly Sam was beside him, an arm around him. "Jonny, what is it?" she asked. He shrugged and tried to pull away, tried to conceal what had to be beyond obvious to her. He heard the papers in front of him shuffling and she said, "Oh, Jonny."

He pulled away as she started to pull him closer into her arms. Grabbing his crutches, he muttered something about the bathroom and turned towards the door. When he saw what awaited him there, he froze in place. Jack and Daniel he had expected, but not Teal'c – when had he gotten back anyway? Not General Hammond, and certainly not General Carter. To his unutterable humiliation, this crowd of witnesses caused him to burst into a fresh flood of noisier tears. He wanted to run out, but he couldn't move quickly with the cast, and the group of them were rather successfully blocking the doorway. He turned around sharply so he wouldn't have to look at them while he sobbed.

He heard some movement behind him, some whispered words that he couldn't make out, and then the door closed.

"Okay, Jonny, let's get you sitting down," Jack said, coming up beside him and putting an arm around his shoulders. He led Jonny to the sofa and helped him to sit down with his foot up. Jonny couldn't stop crying, but Jack just pulled him close and let him sob till he'd gotten it out of his system.

He lay there against him for a moment when quiet finally came, and then he sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Jack asked in a reasonable tone.

"That was stupid!" Jonny exclaimed. "I'm not some stupid kid who can't handle himself, and I just cried like a two-year-old in front of Sam and both those generals." He shook his head. "Two!"

"You've been through a lot, Jonny," Jack said. "I'm not sure I'd be remotely calm about it, and I'm a good bit older than you."

"You would not sob like a baby because you got a letter from home."

"I don't know about that," Jack said. "Isolation does funny things to people."

"I'm not exactly isolated," Jonny protested. "You and Daniel won't even leave me alone!"

"It's not the same thing," Jack replied. "You're isolated from your friends and family, and for a kid who's not even used to being at school all day without his parents, that's a big deal."

Jonny scowled, but Jack was right. The last time they'd made any attempt at public schooling, Jonny hadn't even gone alone. Race had 'volunteered' in the classroom. That his volunteering largely took the form of staying at the back of the room and keeping an eye on things was part of what had sent them back to home schooling. Other parents didn't seem to want a boy who needed a bodyguard in a class with their children.

"It's not fair!" Jonny burst out, surprising himself. "Nothing in my life is ever even remotely normal!"

"I wish I could say I know how you feel," Jack said. "My life didn't get surreal until I joined the military."

"I don't wish I had a different father," Jonny said. "I don't wish I didn't get to travel around the world and meet famous scientists. I just wish . . . I just . . ." He shook his head. "I don't know what I wish." That wasn't strictly true. He wished none of this had ever happened.

No, that wasn't true either. He didn't wish the knowledge away. If there was a dangerous enemy out there, he wanted to know about it, to be able to contribute to the fight.

No matter what his father wanted.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Daniel led the way to Dr. Kapoor's office, which was empty while the archeologist was offworld with SG-3. There were several chairs scattered around. Daniel shut the door behind them. It seemed unlikely that their conversation would be for public ears.

"What in the hell is going on?" Jacob demanded. "Why is Jonny crying and where is Bannon?"

Daniel leaned against Kapoor's desk and crossed his arms waiting for Sam. With the way Jack had taken over, he hadn't gotten within five feet of his own desk, so Sam was the only one who had seen what Jonny was looking at. The only thing Daniel was sure of was that it wasn't the translation they'd been working on.

Sam shrugged uncomfortably. "Both questions sort of have the same answer," she told her father, who scowled. "We can't get him clearance."

Jacob's irritated glare relaxed to blank astonishment. After a moment, he said, "Race Bannon doesn't have clearance?" She nodded. He looked around at the rest of them, obviously looking for confirmation and reading it in their expressions. "That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. When we were on that damned . . . escapade . . . he . . . hell, even the boys had higher clearance than I did."

"What?" Daniel blinked in surprise.

"Well, maybe not the boys, but I had to get special clearance to speak with Bannon and Quest about the details of their activities."

"Well, this appears to be political," Hammond said, and Daniel nodded.

"Jonny says it's because his father doesn't do as much work for the government as he used to, and there are people, apparently, who blame that on Race's influence."

"Ah, that," Jacob said, shaking his head. "Eminently logical. Benton's half hippy, Race is more than half John Wayne, but the one who's leaning away from working for the government is the soldier."

Hammond nodded. "I understand it only got worse after the debacle three years ago when Jonny got kidnapped twice in one summer, once with his father, once without. That was when Bannon left I-1 and the rumors started flying even faster."

Sam snorted. "After all, those academic types are soft, weak, easily led."

Daniel shook his head. "I thought we were subversive."

"That too," Sam agreed.

"How can they be both?" Teal'c asked perplexedly.

"They can't, really," Hammond said, sighing. "That's the problem."

Daniel shrugged. "Regardless, we haven't made any real progress towards getting Race in here, and it's making Jonny very unhappy."

"Well, if they want the second generation of Quests to work for the government, I think they'd better start rethinking their strategies," Jacob said. "So, how much does Jonny know about what's going on?"

"Just about everything," Hammond said.

"That will thrill his father."

Hammond grimaced. "We decided, based on his past record, that it would be better not to try and keep things from him for fear he'd go looking and find them."

Jacob grinned. "Probably a wise move on your part. My two were tough enough between their brains and their gumption, I wouldn't want to be raising that pair of hellions."

Sam flushed and cleared her throat. "So, we'll be needing some help in figuring out where to look for Thoth," she said in a clear effort to shift the conversation away from the potential of embarrassing childhood stories.

"I don't think the Tok'ra quite understand the urgency," Jacob said. "But between Selmak and I, we should find the right buttons to push to get them moving."

There was a pause while Jacob seemed to look down. Then Selmak looked up. "According to Jacob's knowledge, Quest seems to have been involved in many of your more impressive scientific breakthroughs in recent years. That will help to encourage their thinking in the right direction."

"What I find disturbing is that BentonQuest was targeted so specifically," Teal'c said. "How did Thoth learn of his existence to begin with?"

"Several theories have been suggested," the general said. "We have never been certain just how many operatives the rogue NID put into the field. The odds are, without the support they were getting from Earth, some of them have fallen into Goa'uld hands."

"Or the Russians," Sam said. "We've never been altogether clear on how many people they sent out and mislaid."

"So perhaps one of them told Thoth who BentonQuest was and where to find him."

"More than likely," Hammond said. He turned to Selmak. "Tell me, how difficult is it to change from one host to another?"

The Tok'ra gave General Hammond a thoughtful look. Daniel waited to hear what he . . . it . . . what pronoun did one use for a gender neutral being joined with a gendered one? He pursed his lips, his emotions roiling confusedly. Anytime the subject of removing a symbiote from a host body came up, there was a sharp stab of pain in his heart that Sha're had died before they could achieve that. He kept this reaction internal however, and waited patiently, arms crossed a little tighter than before.

"There is always a risk," Selmak said finally. "On the first transition, it is perhaps thirty percent, higher if the symbiote does not have help. With experience and good medical aid, the risk is reduced to about five percent."

"But . . ." Sam paused, eyes narrowed with thought. "Most of your evidence comes from Tok'ra, right?" Selmak nodded, looking vaguely confused. "The Tok'ra don't typically change hosts until the host body is failing, right? That surely has some kind of skewing effect on the results."

"What about the lack of resistance from the host?" Daniel asked. "Couldn't that have an effect?"

Selmak was nodding. "Yes, to both questions, though I honestly believe the first one has greater relevance. The symbiote is weakened by the failing of the host body, which makes the transition more dangerous."

"Which means that Thoth could have lower risk factor than you stated," Hammond asked.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I don't understand how anyone could fight a symbiote at all," Sam said suddenly. "Forgive me Selmak if this disturbs you, but when Jolinar was in me, I could no more force myself to the surface than scratch my nose. She was in total control. I'm really not sure that the host fighting the symbiote is a possibility."

"We know that Kendra did, that's how she got to Cimmeria," Daniel replied, tilting his head. "And I'm certain that Sha're exerted some kind of control over Amunet when we were hiding behind that column near the Abydos stargate. With Apophis standing beside her, she looked right at me and said nothing."

Sam shrugged. "Regardless, those are rare cases, I get the impression. A symbiote has the final say over control, as far as I can tell."

Teal'c stepped forward, lips pursed uncomfortably. "Even if it is possible, DanielJackson, those examples are merely influence, not control. I have seen many hosts taken, and never have I seen the host successfully reject the symbiote."

Daniel consciously relaxed his arms. "But that's exactly what Jonny reports seeing Hadji do."

"That may have been subterfuge," Hammond said.

Daniel shook his head and crossed his arms again. "There is no weapon inside Jonny, he's not a zatarc, he hasn't got much in the way of intelligence about Thoth's ship, he's not suggesting any paths for research, and the columns I've been translating seem to be nothing more than a hymn of praise to Thoth." He shrugged. "I'm not seeing any reason why they would have helped him to escape except that they didn't want him, and I doubt that's the case. Furthermore, no one would ever have suspected the Goa'uld of abducting Benton Quest without Jonny being found the way he was, there are too many perfectly credible suspects right here on planet Earth." He paused to see if they had any comments. No one spoke. He shrugged. "I don't think he's a plant."

"No, you're probably right," the general replied.

"I just don't see how it's possible," Sam said.

"Hadji is an unusual boy," Jacob said. Somewhere during the interchange, Selmak had ceded control back to the human. "A very unusual boy. It's possible he has a unique reaction to Goa'uld invasion."

"Unusual in what sense?" Hammond asked.

Jacob grimaced then sighed, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling. "He can levitate objects with his mind," he said in a tone that anticipated immediate objections.

They were all silent for a moment, then Sam said, "Dad, are you feeling all right?"

"I know how ridiculous it sounds, Sam," he exclaimed. "But I saw it. There was no other explanation, no way it could have been set up in advance. It wasn't a parlor trick. It happened." He raised an eyebrow. "Besides, haven't you already met other people who could do things like that with the power of their minds?"

"Are you suggesting that Hadji is an ascended, or on the verge of ascension?" Daniel asked, blinking in astonishment.

"No. He's far too sensible for that," Jacob said. "But the Nox did –"

"Dad, the Nox are a highly advanced race, very different from us."

Jacob shook his head. "I know what I saw. We were in a locked cell in a building the boys hadn't been in before, and Hadji levitated a key from a table about four feet away into his hand." He raised his hands to forestall further objections. "Anyway, that really is beside the point. I also saw him do . . . well, I can only describe it as a 'Jedi mind trick.' It was extremely uncanny."

"How so?" Hammond asked curiously.

"He convinced a pair of guards that they had to escort us to the pier so we could board a ship. Since they'd specifically been told to keep us in the building and shoot us if we tried to leave, I found that pretty damned impressive."

"So he's persuasive," Sam said.

"No, not persuasive," Jacob replied. He pointed at Daniel, who raised his eyebrows. "Daniel, here, could persuade fish to climb trees." Daniel opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. Why would he want to persuade fish to climb trees? Sam was nodding agreement, though. "It wasn't that," Jacob continued. "It was . . . eerie, the way they just fell to, as if it had been ordered by one of their superiors. It was . . ." He shook his head again. "If anyone could fight against a Goa'uld possession, it would be Hadji."

"Dad, what the hell happened?" Sam asked suddenly, as if she had only just realized that there was more to the story than they were being told. "You were locked into a cell with Hadji and Jonny?"

"And Race, but he was out cold," Jacob replied with a ghost of a grin for his daughter's rising level of curious irritation. "Benton was elsewhere in the facility having his mind probed. At least that's what was claimed." He snorted. "It was hell dragging Bannon down to the boat, I have to tell you. I kept being afraid that the guard who was helping me was going to regain his senses and shoot one or all of us. Then Jonny vanished, going after his father, and I had to go after him to try and help. Hadji stayed with Race. The kid was utterly exhausted after . . . whatever it was he'd done. It was not a fun trip."

"I would imagine not," Teal'c said.

"I can't even begin to imagine that," Hammond said. "The thought of my kids, at that age, getting into scrapes that might involve people pointing guns at them makes my blood run cold."

"Being the 'adult' with a thirteen-year-old and an eleven-year-old who are convinced that they know how to handle a crisis better than any adult – besides Race and Benton, mind you – was definitely challenging."

"As challenging as running herd over a mob of Tok'ra?" Sam asked.

"More so," Jacob said. "The Tok'ra are cautious."

Daniel snorted. "From the one or two stories I've wangled out of him, I'd say that Jonny's anything but cautious."

"What happened to his foot?"

"He got grazed by zat fire and it knocked him off balance," Hammond said. "He broke his foot in the fall."

The phone rang, and Daniel glanced at it. It might be someone trying to leave a message for Dr. Kapoor, but no, the caller ID screen showed that it was a call from Daniel's own office. Daniel picked it up. The others drew closer together, closing him out so that their voices wouldn't interfere with his call as they continued the conversation.

"Daniel Jackson," he said by way of answering the phone.

"Daniel, I think you and the others should come back now," Jack said. "He's embarrassed, but he's okay."

"Good," Daniel said. "Well, this has given us a little time to bring Jacob and Selmak up to speed on the situation, so that's not a bad thing."

"No, it's not," Jack replied.

They hung up and Daniel turned to the others. "We can go back now, if you're ready," he said.

"Should we all go back?" Sam asked. "I mean, we're a pretty overwhelming group."

"I don't see any reason why not," Daniel said dubiously.

Teal'c cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be better not to give him too much information at once. Presumably, though he knows Jacob Carter, he does not know that he is Tok'ra. It might be wiser for me to come back at a later time."

"I have a few things I'd like to go over with you, Teal'c," Hammond said. Nodding the Jaffa followed the general back towards the elevators while Jacob, Sam and Daniel headed back down the hall.

Jonny was sitting on the chair they'd had brought in for him with his foot up. He seemed very subdued, but happy to see General Carter. Jack squeezed Jonny's shoulder and moved away to lean against the wall as Jacob approached. "Dad said you'd been sent away on an extended posting. I was surprised because . . ." He flushed, clearly uncertain whether to say what he was thinking. He was also looking curiously at Jacob's clothes, which weren't remotely the sort of thing you'd expect to see a retired general wearing.

"Because you heard that I had cancer?" Jacob asked gently. Jonny nodded. "About that . . . well, it's a bit complicated . . ."

Jonny's eyebrows went up. "You do seem very well, sir," he said.

Daniel wondered how Jonny was going to react to the news that Jacob was now Tok'ra. Jacob pulled Daniel's desk chair over so that he could sit with the boy. "You've met Anise." Jonny nodded, clearly mystified. "She tells me she explained what the Tok'ra are. Can you tell me what she said?"

Jonny blinked at him for a moment. "Well, she said that they object to the way the Goa'uld just grab and take people as hosts, and that they don't take unwilling hosts . . ." His eyes widened. "You . . . your cancer . . ."

"I was at death's door," Jacob said. "And Selmak's host was dying. And we on Earth needed a way to prove our worth to the Tok'ra."

"So you have one of those things in your head?" Jonny asked.

"Selmak," Jacob said. "Would you like to meet her?"

Jonny gaped. "Her? You have a girl snake in your head?"

Jacob seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment, and Selmak took charge. "Not precisely, Jonny."

At the voice shift, Jonny stiffened, and Jack leaned forward to touch his shoulder. "We wouldn't bring in anyone who'd hurt you, Jonny," he said in an undertone. The boy glanced up and relaxed a smidgen.

"I'm sorry I startled you," Selmak said, scooting a little further away to give Jonny more space. "I simply have a better explanation than Jacob was managing to find at that moment."

"She does," Jacob said, coming forward again. He shook his head. "I'm no good at this stuff," he added.

"Okay," Jonny said and Selmak was back.

"A symbiote is neuter except under very specific circumstances."

"Really?" Jonny asked, his interest overcoming his alarm. "So why does he call you she?"

"Because he's a romantic," Selmak said and Sam choked. "With a dreadful sense of humor."

"General Carter is a romantic?" Jonny said incredulously.

"Actually," Jacob said, sounding crusty, "it's because Selmak has always chosen female hosts previously. I was a case of beggars can't be choosers."

Daniel was fascinated despite himself by this evidence of the relationship between Selmak and Jacob. Jonny leaned forward, evidently fascinated by another aspect of the interchange. "So, in a sense, the symbiote, which has no sex, takes a gender identity by taking on a host. Or do you embrace that gender identity? Is it separate from you or . . . hmm . . ." Jonny paused. "And does Tok'ra culture have any gender bias? Do any among the Tok'ra switch back and forth routinely, or do you tend to stick to one gender?" Selmak seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the flood of questions, and Jonny blanched. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude."

"No, you're not," Selmak said. "Jacob is a friend and you are curious about his new state. It's only natural. To answer your questions, yes we do embrace the gender of our host. We experience all the sensations, all the hormonal responses that are natural to this form. As a result, we generally do stick to one gender. It's rather like a human always buying the same brand of jeans, but quite a bit more extreme." Daniel was listening attentively. They should bring more kids around the Tok'ra. They seemed to get a better flow of information. "Though there are individuals who switch back and forth. I have always chosen female hosts, however."

"So you think of yourself as female?" Jonny asked.

"I do," Selmak affirmed.

"So you're a woman in a man's body."

Sam had to turn around to keep from showing her amusement. Jack's eyes just widened helplessly and Daniel felt himself go very bland. Jacob came forward. "Don't go there, Jonny," he said, a smile twitching his lips.

Jonny took this in good stead, grinning back. "So, is it like you two are married?"

"That's actually a very apt description of how it feels to me," Jacob commented. His eyes widened. "Hey, you hush up there!" he said, seeming to direct his gaze inward.

"So, did they choose you because you're a diplomat or something? I don't . . ." Jonny shook his head. "Are you a diplomat?"

"I am now," Jacob said with a small smile. "No, actually my daughter recommended me for the position."

"It was more of a desperate plea, as I recall," Sam said.

Jonny did a double take, and Daniel realized suddenly that he hadn't realized that Sam was Jacob's daughter. "You're Dr. Carter's father?" the boy asked incredulously.

"Well, I know it's hard to believe," Jacob started, but Jonny was too enthusiastic to listen to the old man's jokes.

"She's so cool!" he exclaimed, seeming to forget that Sam was there. "I mean, utterly brilliant. And so –" Daniel cleared his throat before Jonny could embarrass himself further and the boy broke off, turning scarlet. "I mean . . ."

"I agree," Jacob said calmly. "I think she's pretty nifty myself."

Jack stepped in quickly to change the subject. "So, Jonny, the Tok'ra are going to help us find your father."

"And Hadji," Jonny said immediately.

"And Hadji," Jack agreed. Daniel had noticed this tendency on the boy's part, this urgency that they not focus so firmly on his father that they forgot his brother.

"Actually, I should be heading back to help with that," Jacob said. Daniel was glad he hadn't said something closer to the truth, like it was time he headed back to kick them in the butt and get them moving.

"Tell them thank you from me," Jonny said earnestly. "Tell them I really appreciate any help they can give."

"I will," Jacob said, and Daniel had a vivid image of both Selmak and Jacob using that gratitude as a weapon against the Tok'ra council. Of course, it would be more effective if Jonny was there in person, but that wasn't going to happen.

"Do you think it would help if I wrote a letter?" Jonny asked. "I mean, if they're not being overly enthusiastic."

Jacob stared at him for a moment. Then he turned to the adults in the room. "What have you been telling him?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Sam said. Jack waved his hands in a negating gesture.

"I haven't said anything," Daniel said. They all looked at Jonny who seemed a little puzzled by their reactions.

Blinking, he said, "They're a government, right?"

"Well . . . yes," Jacob said. Jonny raised his eyebrows and waited. Daniel looked down, recognizing Jonny's point.

It took the others a little longer, but finally Jack said, "Ah!" That about summed up Daniel's reaction, so he let it stand alone.

Jonny shrugged. "People, individuals, can be smart. Governments are stupid, slow and short-sighted. And you called it a council. Is it a body of equals who vote on things?" Jacob nodded. "That's the worst kind. More than three people can't agree on where to have dinner."

"Isn't that the truth!" Jack said, and his tone held a note of bitterness that made Jacob eye him warily.

"A letter would certainly do no harm," Jacob said.

Jonny nodded, pulling a sheet of paper towards him. "How should I open it? I mean, 'To Whom It May Concern' seems a little impersonal."

Jacob snorted and scooted closer. "Let's see. Selmak, what do you think?"

Jack took Daniel's arm, short-circuiting his attempt to stay and find out what the Tok'ra council would consider an appropriate salutation from a Tau'ri boy. "So, Dannyboy, you haven't been out of the mountain in almost a week. Am I going to have to order you to go get some sunshine?"

"When have you been out?" Daniel asked.

"I took Bandit for a walk yesterday," Jack replied, rocking forward off his heels and looking smug. "Outside. In the fresh air. You know, on the surface of the planet."

Daniel crossed his arms. "I am on the surface of the planet." Jack's eyebrows raised questioningly. "There isn't any earth above me, so I am on the surface."

"Not any earth . . ." Jack said, looking incredulous.

"Just the facility," Daniel said, smiling.

"Actually, I believe there are sections of rock above us."

Daniel shrugged. "Regardless, if you take the planet as a whole, this is the surface –"

"Daniel!" Jack's voice was sharp but low. Daniel fell silent, giving him his whole, if ironic, attention. "The point is you haven't seen the sun in a week."

"Have so," Daniel said.

"Have not," Jack replied.

"Have so."

"Have not."

"Have so." Daniel was firm in his tone. This was ridiculous. As if Jack knew whether he'd seen the sun or not.

"Have not," Jack growled. "Video doesn't count."

Daniel glared angrily at him. "Since when?"

"Since always, Daniel. You can't get any benefit from recorded sunlight, for crying out loud."

Daniel opened his mouth, but since he didn't have any reasonable way to refute that, he closed it again. "Fine, I will go out. I promise. But I've got some work right now."

Jack raised a dubious eyebrow, but he didn't say anything more. Daniel decided to count the point accepted and walked over to look at the work Jonny had done on the translation while he and Jack were at Teal'c's brief debriefing. He was impressed. Not only had Jonny completed a translation based on his interpretation of the phrase they had disagreed on, but he'd also completed one based on Daniel's interpretation. Placing them side by side, he couldn't figure out which one made more sense. They didn't have sufficient context to place it in. He wondered whether, if they got a third linguist in here, if they'd get a third interpretation.

He paused suddenly, blinking down at the pages. He was thinking of Jonny almost as if he were another adult with the same level of experience and knowledge. He looked up at the boy and sighed. Daniel had entered college at the age of sixteen, but with no parents and no support from his family, he'd started with a fairly blank slate. Jonny was an odd mix of child and grown up, but as Jack continually reminded them, he wasn't an adult. Still, in many ways he had linguistic experience comparable to Daniel's upon entering the stargate program, and there was no doubting that he had a great deal of knowledge.

Jonny and Jacob were finishing up. Daniel hoped the letter would have the effect they were hoping for. Jonny needed to feel useful, as if he were contributing to the effort to get his father back. His father _and_ brother. How many people had disregarded Hadji to cause that insistent reaction? He shook his head.

Jacob said good bye, and Jack looked up, catching Daniel's eye. They agreed, with that look, that Daniel would stay with Jonny while Jack and Sam saw Jacob off. As the door shut, Jonny let out a sigh. "So, did I look like a complete idiot?" he asked.

Daniel took the seat that Jacob had vacated. "Not a _complete_ idiot," he said, watching carefully to gauge Jonny's reaction. The boy chuckled weakly, and Daniel knew he'd hit the right note. "Seriously, though, no one judged your reaction except . . ." Jonny looked up worriedly. Daniel chose his words carefully. "We're not judging you. We're all angry that the bureaucracy won't let Race come here," he said. "Under these circumstances it's a terrible injustice."

Jonny's eyes widened. "Oh." He was silent for a moment, then looked down at the translations. "So, what did you think of what I did?" he asked, clearly trying to change the subject. "I couldn't tell which one was right."

"I can't tell either," Daniel said. "We don't have enough context to set it in, and, unfortunately, we're not likely to get any more. It was found . . ." He looked up. "Well, you've been given clearance." He walked over to the shelves and pulled a report down and flipped it open in front of Jonny. "This is where it was found."

They were bent together over the report, discussing possible implications of the excavation site when Jack came back.

"So, does anyone want dinner?" he asked brightly.

Daniel glanced in surprise at the clock, which said it was past six o'clock and grimaced. "I lost track of time."

Jonny shrugged. "I'm not very hungry," he said.

"Well, unless you wand Dr. Fraiser to become Mama Fraiser all over you, I'd recommend you eat something anyway," Jack said.

"You'll probably get hungry the minute you smell food," Daniel said, and Jonny sighed, nodding. They went down to the commissary and Jack handled Jonny's tray for him, deftly filling it despite the boy's lack of apparent desire for food.

They sat down and Jonny started to pick at his food. As soon as he got some in his mouth, though, the monster that is a teen-aged boy's appetite took over and he started eating decently. They ignored his change of appetite blandly, continuing to eat their own dinners.

After dinner they took him back to his room. Dr. Fraiser and Jack had put sharp limits on how much Jonny was allowed to work, and Daniel knew just what would happen to him if he didn't follow Janet's orders. Jack's he could wiggle out of if he tried hard enough . . . he'd never quite figured out why . . . but Janet had a will of iron.

"I'm really not ready to go to bed," Jonny protested. "It's not even eight yet."

"No one said you had to go to bed," Jack replied. This was becoming a nightly ritual. Jonny was about to try and get permission to work some more, and Jack was going to say no. Daniel wasn't altogether sure why they continued with it, since the conversation ran along a predictable track with very nearly scripted lines.

"But what I am I supposed to do?" Jonny demanded.

"Well, I think Teal'c's going to come tell you about his trip," Jack said, breaking away from the script.

Jonny turned from sullen teenager to anxious adolescent in an instant. "Is he okay? Did he find anything out? Does he know where my dad is?"

"If he knew that, we'd have told you immediately," Jack said. Jonny had started moving more quickly. "Don't hurry, you'll slip."

"I'm fine," Jonny said, sounding irritated. "I'm not fragile, I'm not going to break, and I'm perfectly capable of going a little faster on the crutches." As if to prove his point, he started going even faster.

Jack grimaced at Daniel's wry look. "Welcome to the wonderful world of parenting."

"Surrogate parenting," Daniel corrected. "An even lower form of life than real parents."

"In loco parentheses." Jack seemed very proud of that statement, and Daniel shook his head as they caught up with Jonny near the elevators. He still didn't have his security card, so he was stuck without them.

He looked a little embarrassed, standing there, but neither Jack nor Daniel gave any sign of recalling the outburst.

Teal'c joined them quickly, and his story was quickly told, though Jonny asked quite a few questions. Eventually, the boy sat back looking unutterably depressed. "So, we're no closer than we were to locating them?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not, Jonny," Jack said. "But we're not giving up either."

Jonny nodded, then patted the bed beside him. Bandit, who had been drowsing on Teal'c's lap, looked up and, hopping to the floor, trotted over to the bed and scrambled up onto it. "Do you mind, I'd like to be alone for awhile." He fixed first Jack and then Daniel with a steely glare. "Actually alone. As in unaccompanied. As in solitary. As in –"

"Okay, okay!" Jack said standing up and backing away. "We get you. Please, don't tax my vocabulary further."

Jonny made a face at him. "I have your extensions and the pager number you gave me." He looked back and forth between them. "So, who's on call tonight?"

"That would be me," Jack said before Daniel could speak.

"Good, then would you please send Daniel home?" Daniel's jaw dropped. "I don't think he's left the base for at least a week."

Daniel continued to gape at Jonny for several seconds more, then turned a withering glare on Jack who held up both hands as if to protest his innocence.

"I didn't say a thing to him," Jack said.

"If this is true, DanielJackson, then you must leave for a time," Teal'c said. "Even I visit the surface from time to time in the gaps between missions. It is not good to be always underground."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Fine, since it's unanimous, I'll make a trip to my apartment, check on the fish and whatnot. That satisfy you all?"

"More or less," Jack said. "Actually, why don't you take tomorrow off? Between the three of us, I think Teal'c, Sam and I can manage Jonny without too much trouble." Daniel saw Jonny give Jack a look through narrowed eyes, and had a feeling that he might find the 'management' of Jonny more challenging than he thought.

"Is that an order?" Daniel asked.

"Does it need to be?" Jack retorted. "Good night, Daniel."

Jonny looked mildly abashed. "Yes, good night, Daniel," he called. "See you in a couple of days."

Daniel couldn't glare at the boy. He gave him a smile and said good night, then he left the room, a silent nod from Teal'c speeding him on his way. He felt distinctly chivvied. He went to the locker room and changed back into his normal civilian garb, which he seemed to wear less and less often as the years went by. Then he headed out to his car. The stars were out, though it was hard to see them with all the lights from the base. Sighing, he drove away.

About halfway home, he noticed that his gas gauge was past the E line, so, sighing again, he pulled off the road into a gas station parking lot. The station itself was closed, but the pumps took credit cards. It was a lonely spot in the road. There were a lot of houses in the hills but no nearby town, so it was sort of a grocery store as well, and there was nothing around it but trees. It was situated at the apex of a long curve. Daniel could hear the sounds of insects and other night prowlers among the trees. Cars went by occasionally, but it had been past midnight before he'd left the base, so the traffic was pretty light.

After starting the pump going, he squinted at his back window. Dust coated the glass, so he got the squeegee out of its solution of murky water and started to work on it. Behind him, a van pulled up to the other side of the pump. He heard someone get out and move around, but he didn't pay much attention. He got the windshield too, then dropped the squeegee in its bucket just as the pump clicked off. Before he could move to take the nozzle out of the tank, he heard the ominous sound of an automatic gun being cocked behind him. He froze, contemplating his options. He had the gas pump in front of him with a van on the other side of it, which now he saw completely blocked all view of him from the road. As if to emphasize this, he heard a car go by out of sight on the highway.

"Don't do anything foolish, Dr. Jackson. No one here wants to hurt you."

The voice was unfamiliar, and the phrasing somewhat interesting. No one here wanted to hurt him, but that didn't mean they wouldn't if they, for whatever unknown reason, decided they had to. They also, quite clearly, knew who he was, so this wasn't a random carjacking.

"Turn around slowly, keeping your hands where I can see them."

Daniel did as the voice instructed, contemplating that they had more reason to make that request of Jack. A pocketful of spare change wouldn't be much of a threat. The man was younger than Daniel and dressed casually in a light blue button front shirt, faded blue jeans and white tennis shoes. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes, and his lips were twisted in a sardonic little smile.

"Hello," Daniel said, then dodged sideways away from his car and ran for the trees. He heard running footsteps behind him, more than one set, but he didn't turn or stop.

Someone slammed into him from slightly to the side and behind him, knocking him off his feet. He landed in the gravel at the edge of the parking lot and felt the sharp edges of the rocks abrade his face. "Get him back over here!" ordered the gunman's voice. "Quick, before someone sees!" Hands grabbed him and wrenched him up off the ground. He fought back, but there were two of them now, and they had obviously had some experience in controlling unwilling captives. They dragged him back to the pump and the shield created by the van and shoved him face down across the hood of his car. One of them held him there while the other one conducted a quick search of his person.

"No weapons, but here are his car keys," said one of them.

"Okay, Larry, take his car to his house, then catch a bus. Let's get him into the van."

They wrestled him into the van, then the gunman pointed the gun at Daniel's knee. "I said we don't want to hurt you, not that we won't."

"Shockingly, I figured that out," Daniel growled. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Just a little chat," the gunman said as a blond man ran the door of the van closed. Daniel watched his car disappear around the bend and clenched his teeth. "Right now we're going for a drive."

The blond man climbed into the front passenger seat and the engine started. Daniel crossed his arms tightly on his chest. The scrapes on his hands and face stung sharply.

What in the hell was this all about?


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Jack walked into Carter's lab to check on Jonny, who appeared to be having fun with a large and expensive looking piece of inexplicable equipment while Carter looked on giving incomprehensible advice. Reassured, he shot the breeze for awhile, then left them to their fun.

He was frankly surprised that he hadn't been called to the surface to tell Daniel that he did, indeed, have to take the whole day off. Maybe he'd actually gone out to do something fun for a change.

Sgt. Harriman came around the corner ahead of him looking earnest and serious as always. When he saw Jack, his step quickened. "Sir, General Hammond wants to see you in his office."

"Is something wrong?" Jack asked, turning back with the sergeant towards the elevator.

Harriman pursed his lips. "I don't know for certain, sir, but I'm very much afraid so."

Jack hastened to the general's office, not sure what to expect. Harriman seemed very quietly alarmed, and that worried him. When he got to the office, Hammond was on his feet, staring out the window into the briefing room. Jack came to a stop and stood near attention. "Sir?"

Hammond turned. His expression was even more solemn than usual. "It never rains, but it pours," he said sourly. "It appears that Dr. Jackson has been kidnapped."

Jack blinked stupidly. "What?"

"Dr. Jackson may have been abducted, colonel," Hammond said, a hint of asperity in his tone. "I just got a phone call from the county sheriff's office. I need you to go view the video tape they've got, verify that it is our boy, then assist in the investigation so they don't find out anything they shouldn't."

Jack nodded, finally pulling his mind together. "Address?" he asked and the general handed him a slip of paper. He turned to go, but paused. "What about Jonny?"

Hammond pursed his lips. "Let's see where you are in a couple of hours. Report in at seven p.m."

Jack looked at his watch. Four-thirty. "Yes sir," he said, then headed out.

* * *

Daniel looked around at the room he'd been locked into for the umpteenth time. One sash window with bars firmly affixed outside, a short bed with a white metal frame, a table and two chairs. Its walls were of dark wood to the level of the chair rail, then papered with a fading yellow daisy pattern above. It resembled nothing so much as a Victorian nursery bedroom. The door was of good solid wood, though the lock seemed quite flimsy. He could have broken through it, no problem; however, there were two big guys outside. He'd seen them earlier, and he could still hear them talking from time to time, about sports and women.

He walked over to the window and looked out over the grounds. In the deepening twilight, he could see the fence of the property maybe forty feet away from the house. He could also see the roof peak of the next house not much further off between tall trees. It might as well be a mile, though.

He turned his back on the window and leaned against the sill, glaring around at the little room. So far he had seen no one but his guards, and he had no better idea of what he was doing there than he'd had the night before. He could knock on the door to be taken to a bathroom, but the guards wouldn't tell him anything. He'd tried, once, to break away, but the room at the bottom of the nearest staircase was locked and he'd heard voices beyond the door. No doubt someone would come talk to him at some point, but in the meantime he was going to go nuts.

The door opened abruptly and he stood up straight, dropping his arms to his sides. A woman in a dark green suit walked in. She had dark brown hair pulled back into some kind of braided hairdo. "Good evening, Dr. Jackson, I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long," she said politely, as if she'd just been late for an ordinary business meeting. "My colleagues had to strike when the opportunity presented itself. I'm sure you understand that."

"No, not really," Daniel said and with a false smile, he crossed his arms and leaned once more against the windowsill.

She gave him a smile that was equally insincere. "Please, sit down."

"No, thank you," Daniel said. "I'm fine over here." It was in part an instinctive disinclination to follow her instructions, but it was also a test to see just how much he could push. She raised an eyebrow and sat down herself. "Very will, if you would prefer to stand," she remarked. "I'm sure you're curious as to why you've been brought here." Daniel shrugged and her lips tightened. "Your name, among others, came up in a report by our operatives in the NID. A report concerning the activities of the Quest family."

"So why have I, among those others, been selected for abduction?" Daniel asked. He hid it, but he was discomfited. He had assumed that this was the NID.

"A number of reasons," she replied. "We looked into all the names that appeared in that report, and you were the only one we wanted for your own sake, so my employer asked me to acquire you and the information you possess."

Daniel tilted his head curiously. "Your employer?" he inquired.

"Yes, my employer," she said serenely, giving nothing away. "So, I gather that Dr. Quest and his elder son are not on this planet, but that young Jonny is buried in a bunker by the Air Force."

Daniel blinked at this abrupt frontal assault. "From whom do you gather this?" he asked calmly. "It's the first I've heard of it."

"Is it?" she asked, flipping a file open. Standing up, she walked over and handed him the file. "Read from here," she said, pointing at a paragraph about halfway down the page. With a quick glance he took in the entire contents of the page, then he started reading for detail.

"'Dr. Daniel Jackson (see Appendix C for in depth profile) and Colonel Jonathon O'Neill (see Appendix D) have been given charge of the remaining Quest boy. He seems very comfortable with both men, so I recommend taking one of them, preferably Dr. Jackson, as a surrogate father figure." She took the file back and looked at him with a good counterfeit of innocent inquiry.

"Someone's been feeding you false information," he said, smiling casually.

"I don't think so," she said. "This is far from the only report that's reached us regarding the strange situation apropos the Quest family." He shrugged noncommittally, and she walked back over to her seat and began enumerating on her fingers. "Roger Bannon and his daughter have been living alone on the Quest compound in Maine and seem to have no explanation for the absence of Bannon's employer and his sons. The President of the United States took an emergency trip to a certain Air Force Base near Colorado Springs and let slip that it had something to do with the Quests to a group of his aides." Daniel didn't change expression, but he cursed Jonny's good friend Bob silently. "Dr. Quest has not been in contact with any of his numerous colleagues all over the world, yet there is no sign whatsoever of a manhunt." Again, Daniel cursed internally. Someone should have thought of that. "Jonny Quest's dog has not been seen at the Maine compound for a couple of weeks. Race Bannon has not been shaking down trees, bushes or hapless criminals, despite the fact that his boss is missing." She started on a new hand. "Dr. Estella Velasquez has cancelled all her professional engagements and gone to stay at the Maine compound."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Has she? That's a shame. A lot of students will be missing out, but I really don't see what that has to do with me. I've only met Dr. Quest once, and it was several years ago. I've never met Race Bannon or Dr. Velasquez."

The woman looked up at him and shook her head. "Dr. Jackson, there is really no reason for continuing this subterfuge. We know the truth. Our man spoke to an eyewitness who saw you and Colonel O'Neill having breakfast with Jonny Quest."

Daniel stared at her silently for a moment. "Let me get this straight. Your contact spoke to someone who saw this breakfast, right?" She nodded, lips pursed primly. "You sure you don't want to add a cousin or a brother-in-law into that story? It wouldn't make it any less credible, but it would add an element of interest to an otherwise boring account."

She closed her file and changed tactics. "Our organization has much to offer an academic like yourself."

Daniel shook his head. "Like you," he corrected. She looked at him, clearly puzzled. "'Yourself' is a reflexive pronoun and can't really be used in the objective case. Instead of 'an academic like yourself,' you should have said 'an academic like you.'" He smiled at her infuriated expression. "I'm sorry, but I have no interest in your organization, nor do I have much to say about its recruitment strategies," he added, touching the grazes on his face.

She glared at him. "Truly, Dr. Jackson, you would do better to deal with me than force me to send for someone higher in the organization."

Daniel shrugged. "That makes no difference to me. I can say no to them just as easily as I say it to you." He leaned forward. "You would be better off if you let me go before my colleagues find me."

"They don't even know you're missing yet," she replied.

"Unless your friends with the van had the bright idea of knocking out the security cameras at the gas station, which I'm pretty sure they didn't, someone knows by now, and Jack will find out." He smiled, and he knew it wasn't a remotely friendly expression. "You don't want a pissed off Jack O'Neill coming down on you, trust me."

She stood up and left, taking her file with her.

* * *

Jack walked with Captain Koudelka into a conference room, where the video player was already set up. "Martin, Boothe, this is Colonel O'Neill, USAF. He's here to help our investigation. Let's see that videotape again."

The two officers looked up at Jack dourly, as well they might, and started the video. Jack watched impassively as Daniel pumped gas into his car. He knew something bad had to happen soon, and he was both anxious to see it and half-fearful of what might have been done to his most vulnerable team member. The abduction took place within a matter of minutes. A plain van pulled up to the other side of Daniel's pump, completely blocking the view from the road. Jack watched in rising fury as a young jackass climbed out and drew a gun on Daniel. Two other guys got out of the van behind him. Given the size of the group and the isolation of the place, the conclusion was almost foregone, but Jack got even angrier when he saw two huge guys tackle Daniel to the gravel side yard of the gas station. The pair forced him to climb into a strange van. A third man drove his car away, and then the van left, the mud splattered all over its license plate rendering it unreadable.

"So," Captain Koudelka asked, "is that your Dr. Jackson?" Jack nodded sharply, containing his rage at the cost of some effort.

"Did you recognize the perps?" asked one of the two officers, and Jack shook his head. "They're local muscle, except for the guy with the gun. We've got people looking for them at their usual haunts, so far without much luck."

"Local muscle?" Jack repeated, puzzled. "That doesn't sound like any of the people I would expect to be after Daniel."

Boothe and Martin raised their eyebrows and exchanged a look. Boothe cleared his throat and spoke in a decidedly neutral tone. "You would expect people to be after Dr. Jackson?"

Jack grimaced. "Daniel's job is highly classified. Like, if I told you what he does, I'd have to get MPs out here to lock you up classified, and then I'd probably be court-martialed." The cops' eyebrows went even higher, and they glanced over at their captain.

"So I gathered from my conversation with General Hammond," Koudelka said.

Jack shrugged. "It kind of makes him a target, but most of the guys I'd expect to come after him wouldn't hire local muscle. They'd keep it in house, because they don't want what he knows getting widely disseminated either."

"All right," Koudelka said, leading Jack over to the table. "Other than our local guys, we haven't got a single real lead. We've sent pictures of the gunman out to see if we can get a bead on him, but nothing's popped up so far. There's some fiber evidence we're looking at, and a little bit of blood on the hood of your friend's car, but we think it's probably his. Do you know his blood type?"

"B neg," Jack replied woodenly. Daniel had bled?

Koudelka nodded. "More than likely, then," he replied. "There was not a useful print to be found. The few we did find are either Jackson's or match someone Jackson knows. Please let General Hammond know that I appreciate the prompt response from your people on that."

"I will."

"So, you think it's this classified stuff he works on that's caused this?" Boothe asked.

Jack shook his head. "No, if my superiors had any reason to believe that was relevant, you folks would have been taken off the case already."

"I see," Martin said. "So we have an archeologist who works for the military being abducted, but despite the fact that no ransom has been demanded for his return, you don't believe that it's related to his job. Can you shed any light on why he might have been taken?"

Jack shook his head. "He speaks upwards of twenty languages fluently, and he's knowledgeable about any number of very esoteric subjects," he offered. "I don't really have any idea."

"Do you know him well?" asked Boothe. "You referred to him by first name."

"I'm his commanding officer," Jack said. "And a close personal friend."

The three men's attitudes towards him shifted almost imperceptibly, and Jack sighed. "So, what now?"

"We were about to go see if we could locate Larry," Boothe said. "That's the guy who drove away in Jackson's car." Jack nodded. "Want to go along?"

"Sure," Jack said, and they went down to an unmarked car.

* * *

Hadji sat cross-legged in the middle of his room, too shaken to mediate. He had spoke for hours, literally, telling Thoth everything he had gleaned from Klorel's mind regarding Apophis. He had apparently passed the test, for Thoth had sent him back here without further threat of punishment.

Now, though, Hadji wondered what would happen to him. Klorel was comatose and had never had the information Thoth sought. The younger Goa'uld had never given much attention to the knowledge and memories his previous host had held. Taught that the host was less than nothing, that was all the thought Klorel had paid to the boy he had possessed.

It seemed very foolish to Hadji that Apophis, fighting Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill, had never demanded that Klorel plumb the depths of Skaara's knowledge of the two men. Instead Apophis had told Klorel that nothing of the host remained, and despite clear evidence to the contrary, Klorel had clung to that idea up until the moment his host, freed of him, had risen and walked away of his own free will.

The door opened and Jaffa walked in. They took him unresisting back to the infirmary where he was anesthetized. He suspected that they were going to remove Klorel from him, and as he passed into unconsciousness, he wondered what they would do with him then.

* * *

Daniel was dozing on the bed when the door opened again. He rolled to a sitting position and looked at the door, expecting a meal. The two armed guards walked in, their guns holstered on their hips. The dark-haired young man who'd managed the kidnapping followed them in and came to a stop about three feet inside the door. "Please get up, Dr. Jackson," he said, and Daniel rose irritably. "Now, please turn around and face the wall."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"Because I asked you to, very politely," the young man said.

Daniel tilted his head. "I do believe the impoliteness of kidnapping pretty much cancels out any politeness you might attempt, now or in the future," Daniel said with an insincere smile.

The young man pursed his lips in obvious annoyance, crossing his arms. "Dr. Jackson, please turn around. You wouldn't want us to become rude."

In conscious imitation of the other man's gesture, Daniel crossed his own arms, gauging the distance between himself and the nearer guard. "I don't even know your name," he said.

Eyes darkening at the mocking gesture, the fellow glared at Daniel. "You can call me Alex."

"Well, Alex, I'm not disposed to cooperate you in any way."

Alex's expression hardened, and he turned fractionally away to give his henchmen orders. Seizing the opportunity, Daniel launched himself at the nearer guard and grabbed for the pistol in his holster as he kneed the man in the groin.

Barrelling past the man, Daniel slammed the door behind him, turning the key in the lock. He fumbled the safety off the gun and didn't head down the nearest flight of stairs. The size of this house combined with the era of its architecture convinced Daniel that there had to be another staircase, one that might be less well guarded.

Within moments, he'd found it and started down, the gun held ready. He could hear running footsteps behind him and shouts from the room he'd just left. He paid little heed, focusing on getting down the stairs as quickly as possible.

As he had hoped, these kitchen stairs weren't guarded. He slammed out a side door and ran across the lawn towards the middle of the fence. The posts weren't very close together, and he was sure they'd have guards on the gate. He slipped through the fence and ran across the next property and out their front gates. As he'd expected, there were a couple of guys smoking outside the gate to his former prison. He turned a sharp right, away from them, and walked down the road, around a bend and out of sight. Fortunately, through most of the area, the fences that lined the road were a ways back from the shoulder, with trees and bushes along the edge. As much as he could, he stayed off the road in amongst the underbrush so he could hide if need be, and walked until he found a signpost at an intersection.

Ten miles to Morganville. He turned towards the town, hoping he'd come to a gas station well before that. He needed a phone desperately, and he didn't know who he could trust.

The sound of a car behind him made him melt into the trees. When the engine sound was a memory, Daniel began to move again. Hiding every time he heard a car was going to lengthen this journey immeasurably. Sighing, he started walking again among the trees. The ground was rough and wearying.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Jack stood at a coffee machine in the station house, pouring himself a cup of black sludge. Who the hell, on Earth, wanted Daniel? The NID wouldn't use local muscle, and surely there was no one else who knew what he was worth.

His eyes darted to the wall clock. Six a.m. Jack had been up all night, and so had his faithful helpers. Boothe was across the room, talking to Captain Koudelka, and Martin had gone to the bathroom.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he lifted it to his ear. "O'Neill."

"Jackson."

Jack froze, certain he'd heard wrong. After a moment, he said, "Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack?" The sarcastic tone in his voice was unmistakable, and so was the weariness. The lack of information was a little irritating.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm very tired because I've been walking all night. Other than that, just dandy."

"Where are you?" Jack demanded.

"At a bed and breakfast in Morganville."

"Morganville, Colorado?" Jack asked."

"Yup. They very kindly checked me in using General Hammond's American Express card. They think my car broke down. I wasn't sure I dared contact the police."

Jack was already moving towards his car. "What happened, Daniel? Are you okay?"

"Well, I'm not fond of being chased by men with guns, or of walking all night through underbrush, nor of being tackled face first onto a gravel drive, but really, Jack, I'm fine."

"I'll be there in less than an hour."

"Okay." Daniel sighed. "I think I'm going to take a nap. See you when you get here, Jack." There was an audible click, and Jack realized abruptly that he didn't know which bed and breakfast in Morganville.

He punched the dial back function on his phone and got a female voice saying, "Shady Glen Bed and Breakfast, this is Megan. Can I help you?"

"Are you located in Morganville?" he asked.

"Yes sir."

"Can I get directions?"

Megan talked him through the turns as he started up his truck. He hung up and twisted to put his seat belt on, blinking when he found Boothe standing beside the truck. Jack ran the window down. "Yes?"

"Where are you going?"

"Daniel appears to have rescued himself, and is now in Morganville, in a bed and breakfast called Shady Glen."

"Don't you think you should wait for back up, sir?" Boothe asked.

Jack stared at him for a moment. "Trust me. Daniel's really not that dangerous. Follow if you want, but I'm leaving now." Boothe moved hastily away towards the stairs as Jack reversed out of his parking spot and took off like a bat out of hell.

* * *

Daniel felt something nudge his leg and rolled over, blinking sleepily at the slightly blurry figure. It wasn't Jack, he could see that much. Jack almost never pointed guns at him. He fumbled on the bedside table for his glasses.

"Careful there, Dr. Jackson," Alex said. "I think you've given us more than enough trouble now."

"You know, people do know where I am.," Daniel said.

"I know, but they're too far away to reach you in time." He pointed the gun at Daniel's left leg. "I'll shoot you if you don't come along quietly."

"Will you?" Daniel asked. "This place is hardly empty."

"The people here will be easily cowed," Alex said contemptuously. "I'm not –"

The door flung open abruptly and there was a moment of utter chaos. When events slowed again, Daniel's ears were ringing, the smell of gun powder hung in the air, glass shards littered the floor, and Alex lay unmoving at the feet of the nice young woman from the front desk. Daniel, himself, was uninjured, and so was Megan, though she was breathing hard as she clutched the handle of her broom.

"Is he unconscious?" she asked.

"Find some rope," Daniel said, kicking the gun away from the man's hand. "I think he hit his head on that chest there." A heavy oak dower chest sat at the foot of the bed.

Megan came back a moment later with some cord, and Daniel secured Alex's hands behind his back, then tied his ankles together. When that was done, he stumbled away and sat in an overstuffed chair by the window.

Megan stared down at Daniel's unwanted visitor, then moved to the phone. She was already on the line with the 911 operator before his sleep and stress fogged mind caught up with what she was doing, and by then it was far too late. He'd just have to hope that his fears about the local police were unfounded.

A few moments later, much to his relief, he saw a familiar black truck pull into the parking lot. Feeling a little unsteady on his feet, he flung the window sash up. "Jack!" he called when his friend emerged. "Up here!"

Within seconds, he heard feet taking the stairs two or three at a time, and then Jack came in. "Daniel, you okay . . ." He stopped, staring at Alex. "Full day, huh?  
"Next time you order me to take a day off, I think I'll ignore you."

"This is a friend of yours, I take it?" Megan asked, her broom still clutched tightly in her hands.

"Yes," Daniel replied. "Jack, meet Megan Parker, without whose help I would now be crippled."

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Surely not. He wouldn't have –"

"He would have," Daniel said sourly, glaring down at the unconscious man. "I assure you. I annoyed him a little, I'm afraid."

Megan looked helplessly back and forth between them, then straightened her shoulders. "Would either of you like a drink?"

* * *

Hours later, Daniel sat in General Hammond's office. He'd gotten more sleep in Jack's truck, and he'd showered which helped enormously. As always, he felt a little overwhelmed and undeserving of the incredible welcome home he'd gotten.

Hammond lost his smile and leaned closer, and Daniel knew what was coming. The debriefing. "What happened, Dr. Jackson? Who were they?"

Daniel shook his head. "I don't know, honestly. Initially, I assumed it was the NID, but the woman who questioned me referred to their operatives in the NID."

"So it was work-related," Jack asked, looking surprised.

"Sort of," Daniel replied, wrinkling his forehead. "They were more interested in the Quests than in us." Hammond's eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair. "See, I was taken because, how did she put it . . . I was the only one who appeared in her reports that her employer wanted in my own right, not just for my connection to the Quests."

Jack stared at him blankly for a few moments. Then he shook his head. "What?"

"They do have an awful lot of information regarding what we do here," Daniel said. "And they know that Dr. Quest and Hadji are offworld, or at least they think they know." He shook his head. "That's another reason they wanted me. She gave me a report to read part of, and it said, in black and white, that we've been looking after him and that one of us should be taken with him to ensure that he'll have someone to relate to."

"Good lord!" Hammond exclaimed. "Who are these people?"

"I don't know. I think they wanted information to lead to Jonny, but I wasn't very communicative, and I was being threatened with having to meet with people higher in their organization." Daniel knit his brows. "As far as I can tell, I was a source of information with a few built-in bonuses, but I doubt frankly that I'd ever have popped up on their radar if it hadn't been for Jonny's friend Bob." He went on to describe the provenance of the scuttlebutt they'd gathered, as well as the mile-long list of evidence for why it was all important. Hammond grew more and more grave while Jack just got more and more pissed off.

Hammond's phone rang, and he answered it with an apologetic grimace. A moment later, he grimaced still more deeply and said, "Send him in."

The door opened and Jonny swung himself through. Teal'c came in behind him and shut the door. "I'm sorry, general, sir, but I'm really very worried about –" He stopped speaking and moving when he saw Jack and Daniel, and the tension in his face and shoulders relaxed. Then his eyes narrowed. "I knew something was wrong!" he declared. "What happened to your face, Daniel?"

"Would you believe that he walked into a door?" Jack asked and Daniel winced.

"Not unless the door was made of jagged stone and he had help getting there," Jonny said frankly. Teal'c raised an eloquent eyebrow and tilted his head, clearly somewhat amused by Jonny's blunt disbelief. "What happened?"

"Jonny, why don't you sit down," the general said, and Jonny flushed crimson.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm being rude, but I was just so worried. It's not like Jack to disappear like that, and Daniel was due back this afternoon, and no one would tell me where they were."

"It's all right, Jonny," Hammond said. "We probably shouldn't have tried to shield you."

Daniel watched Jonny absorb that, then the boy turned and scanned both him and Jack. Pursing his lips, he returned his attention to Hammond. "What happened?" he asked again.

The general gave Jonny the Cliff's Notes version of Daniel's abduction, and Jonny listened carefully. When Hammond was done, Jack started to say something, but Jonny shook his head and turned to Daniel. "What exactly did they ask you?"  
Glancing at Hammond for permission, Daniel said, "Nothing, really. It was all affirmative statements, more like they were looking for confirmation."

Jonny nodded. "All right, so . . . did you get any names?"

"Well, there was Larry, who drove my car away, and Alex, who seemed to be in charge of the kidnapping, other than that, no names."

"But there was a woman who questioned you?" Jonny asked. Daniel nodded. "Was she a redhead with a chancy temper?" Daniel shook his head, a bit bemused by the cross examination. "Not Julia, then, though the rest of it really doesn't sound like Surd's kind of plan, so that was a long shot anyway."

Daniel glanced at Hammond and Jack to see how they were taking this sudden authoritative stance of Jonny's They were both listening, Hammond with an air of surprise, Jack with an air of impatience. Teal'c was according the boy his usual respect.

"Can you describe them for me . . . or . . . wait . . ." Jonny squinted thoughtfully. "This Alex, was he about six-four with dark brown hair, hazel-brown eyes and an insistence on manners?"

Daniel blinked. "Yes, that describes him." He glanced again at Jack, who seemed to have lost his impatience.

"Zin, then," Jonny said with assurance. "Your guy's name is Alexander Taylor. He worked briefly for my father, but when we had . . ." He shook his head. "It's a long story, but the short of it is that he was a plant for Zin."

Hammond looked uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he said, "Son, the US government doesn't recognize the existence of Dr. Zin."

Jonny shrugged, looking disgusted. "I know, but they've also denied the existence of organized crime, and the eugenics programs in the twenties." He grimaced. "They can't catch him, so it's less embarrassing to deny he exists than to admit that they're helpless to stop him, and since his crimes aren't so blatantly public that they're undeniable, they get away with it."

Daniel stared at Jonny. "So you're saying that it's Dr. Zin who 'wants me in my own right'?" he asked, feeing a bit stunned.

"I guess so," Jonny said. "He's always after scientists, but he probably assumed you were a pushover. So many of them are."

"In any case," Hammond said, "it's yet another reason not to take you to the surface."

Jonny's face tightened. "Not without Race, no," he replied. "But how does Zin know that Daniel has any connection to me?" he asked.

"That is an excellent question, and one we'll have to find the answer to."

* * *

A bell-like tone sounded to announce a visitor at the gate. The phone rang and Race snatched it up. "Bannon."

The voice was alarmingly familiar but Race couldn't quite place it. The mode of address was one Race had left behind many years ago. "Major Roger Bannon?"

"Retired," Race responded. "And you are?"

"You don't remember me, Bannon?" the man said, and an image of the speaker suddenly swam into Race's mind. I'm hurt."

"Major Maybourne?" Race said incredulously.

The man laughed unpleasantly. "Well, the last time I used a rank, it was Colonel, but things have changed a bit since then."

Race's mouth dried up. Maybourne was not a man he ever cared to meet again, but the timing of this visit was more than a little suggestive. "Colonel, then," he said.

"Call me Harry, Bannon. So, am I going to get to spend the afternoon sitting outside the gate? Or can I come in?"

"I'll meet you at the gate," Race said, then hung up. He turned to his daughter who was watching open-mouthed. "Jessie, I want you to stay here. I want you to write a letter to Jonny and keep yourself from doing any research until I come back."

"Who was that, Dad?" Jessie asked.

"Don't worry about it," Race said evasively. "I need to go talk to him. Stay here, Jessie. If you ever listen to me, I want you to hear me now. Stay here. I don't want you anywhere near this man."

"Dad, I –"

"I'm serious, Ponchita. Do not follow me. I'll be fine, but this guy isn't someone I want you to meet. I know him from . . . from a long time back. Before I left the service."

Jessie nodded, looking very serious. "All right, Dad. If you insist."

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "I love you, Ponchita."

"Go, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes. He nodded and left, jumping into his car and driving it out to the gate. There he found a bearded man who bore limited resemblance to the Harry Maybourne he'd known twenty years before.

"Hello, Harry," Race said, crossing his arms in front of the gate.

"You going to let me in?" Maybourne asked.

"That rather depends on why you're here."

Maybourne gave him a long, thoughtful look. "I can tell you exactly where Jonny is, Race," he said, and Race stared at him. "That is, if you want to know. So far as I can tell, you haven't been making much of an effort in that direction. He glanced towards the house and his expression carried a whole host of implications that made Race's blood boil.

"Kiss my ass!" he growled, and Maybourne tilted his head.

"Interesting suggestion," he said insultingly. "Honestly, though, do you want to know?"

"Of course I want to know!" Race said. "Not that there's a hell of a lot I can do about it."

Maybourne eyed him with some surprise. "If I were you, I'd make some effort, Race. Don't let the NID have him without a fight."

"The NID don't have him," Race protested. "He's with the Air Force."

"I know," Maybourne said. "And they're very nice people." He spoke with an offensive level of amusement. "But the NID can and has run rings around them."

"Really?" Race said, wondering how true this all was.

Maybourne shrugged. "Actually, your real worry is the president. He's not getting your messages, and if he can be convinced that you're satisfied to live here with your family in luxury without really trying to locate and help either Quest or his sons, he might be prevailed upon to grant someone else custody, especially if that someone could do him a favor he wants. He's quite capable of convincing himself that it's for the best."

"But if I start breaking rules, I'll never be given access."

"Ordinarily that would be the right course, but the people who do the background checks and who make the recommendations regarding who gets clearance to where Jonny is are the very ones who want to take Jonny away from you. See the dilemma?"

"I do," Race said sourly. "And I see another one." Maybourne raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"Trust this," Maybourne said and flicked a card out of his shirt pocket. "That is the phone number of one Dr. Daniel Jackson. You'll have to go through a switchboard, and whatever you do, don't identify yourself. If you have this number, they assume you have clearance."

Race took the card and gazed at Maybourne. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was the satisfaction of having done the right thing?" Race raised one dubious eyebrow. "Ah well, I thought not. Good night, Race." Without further ado, Maybourne left him staring at a card with a phone number on it in the darkness.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Daniel stared at the artifact from P(string) contemplatively. There was no doubt that it was Chinese in style, but the symbols on it were a peculiar mixture of Chinese, Aztec and Goa'uld. It was an odd blending to say the least.

The phone on his desk rang. Fully expecting that it was Jack who would be irritated to find him working at this hour, he ignored the insistent ring. After several minutes, though, he walked over and picked up the receiver. "What?" he demanded ungraciously.

There was a moment of silence, then an unfamiliar voice said, "Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel blinked. "Yes. I'm sorry, I was expecting – I'm sorry. Can I help you?"

"Hello," the man said, sounding relieved. "My name is Roger Bannon, and I hope –"

"Race?" Daniel exclaimed.

"Yes!" Bannon paused, and Daniel could almost feel the emotion thrumming down the line. "Is Jonny with you?"

"He's asleep right now," Daniel said, confused. "Did you finally get clearance? That's great! I'll go wake Jonny. Hang on!" Putting the phone down, Daniel hastened to Jonny's room. Jack appeared to be in the bathroom, but Jonny sat up, looking muzzy.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Race is on the phone!" Jonny looked at the phone on his bedside table, but Daniel shook his head. "No, in my office. Come on."

Jonny got up and grabbed his crutches. They went to Daniel's office where Jonny seized the phone. "Race?" The answering voice brought a grin to Jonny's face. "I can't believe you got clearance! I was sure they'd –" The light in Jonny's eyes dimmed. "You didn't? I don't understand."

Daniel's eyes widened as he took the sense of that in. Race didn't have clearance. He'd made an assumption that was apparently false, raising Jonny's hopes for nothing. Jonny nodded at something Race said, tears starting down his face. Daniel felt like a heel. "Yeah, Race, I love you too. No, I – I – Dad and Hadji – I can't . . ." Daniel walked up and put his arm around the boy's shoulders. Jonny looked up at him. Holding out the phone, he said, "Here, Race wants to talk to you."

Daniel took the phone. At that moment, Jack appeared in the doorway, and his eyes widened at the scene. He asked a silent question with his eyebrows, and Daniel gave him the most infinitesimal of shrugs. He spoke into the phone. "Hello?"

"Thanks for letting me talk to Jonny," Race said. "I hope it doesn't get you into trouble."

"Me too," Daniel said. Jack, eyes still wide walked over and took Jonny from him. "But it's my own fault. How did you get this number?"

"An old military acquaintance of mine showed up and the house and told me he knew where Jonny was. He gave me this phone number and your name. I wasn't even sure what to expect when I called."

"I'm sorry. I . . . uh . . . I jumped to conclusions."

"It's okay. Just . . . look, I don't know how far I trust Maybourne, but –"

"Maybourne?" Daniel repeated. "Do you mean Harry Maybourne?"

"Yeah, I take it you know him?" Race asked.

"We've had . . . dealings," Daniel replied diplomatically. It didn't sound like Race trusted Maybourne, but for all he knew, they were friends.

"I'm sorry," Race said. "He can be a real prick, but if you want to know what a weasel is likely to do, ask a weasel. He says that the NID are actively after Jonny."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Daniel said.

"According to him, the president isn't getting my messages requesting to see Jonny, which is likely to lead him to believe that I don't much care, and the NID plan to take advantage of that. He also told me that they are the ones who make the decisions about who gets clearance for your base."

"That's not altogether true," Daniel replied.

"Maybe not, but I bet they can block clearance pretty successfully ," Race said. Daniel didn't reply. He didn't know what to say, because he thought Race was probably right. "Please, just promise me that you'll take care of Jonny and keep him safe from people who might try to use him."

"I will," Daniel said. "I promise."

"Thanks. I'd better go. Thank you, Dr. Jackson. Thank you so very much."

Jonny appeared at Daniel's elbow, looking more composed, and Daniel nodded. He handed the phone over and stood uneasily by while Jonny talked to his bodyguard. Jack beckoned and Daniel walked over, expecting some form of blistering reprimand.

"How did he get this number?" Jack demanded. "I thought he was going through channels."

"Our old pal Harry Maybourne gave it to him, and told him that some of his channels are blocked."

"Peachy," Jack said. "How does he know Maybourne?"

"I don't know. He seems to think almost as much of him as we do, though. Called him an old military acquaintance."

Jack digested this, then looked over at Jonny. "We have to get him off the phone. That it happened at all is bad enough. We can't let it go on too long." Despite his words, Jack made no move to separate Jonny from the phone.

"Well, it has happened," Daniel said. "What can it hurt to let it go on a little longer?"

A moment or two later, Jonny nodded, then scrubbed at his eyes with his fists and hung up the phone. He turned to face them, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Jack stood up and walked over to him. "Well, campers, let's get back to bed. I left Bandit barking and scrabbling at the door." Jonny forced a weak grin and nodded, starting for the door. Jack turned to Daniel. "You too, Dannyboy. Sleep. It's the thing most people do at this hour."

"I got enough sleep in your truck, Jack," Daniel protested, but he went back with them to Jonny's room.

"Race sounded good," Jonny said as he sat on the bed. "Not freaked out, like Jessie said."

Daniel nodded, but he privately thought that Race had sounded tense enough. Jonny needed to think of Race as a solid brick, though, so he didn't share his thoughts.

"Good," Jack said. "Now, go to sleep." Jonny opened his mouth, but Jack shook his head. "Sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." Daniel started to speak, but Jack cut him off with a guttural nonsense syllable. "You too. Sleep."

* * *

Jack woke the next morning to the sound of Jonny and Daniel talking quietly. He was irritated. He thought he'd made it clear to both of them that sleep was the order of the day – or rather, night. Then he rolled over and saw that it was past seven.

"Thanks, Jonny," Daniel said, and got up. He was fully dressed. "Jack, we have a meeting with Hammond in three hours. I thought I'd go work on my tablet until then."

"You don't have to ask my permission," Jack said. "Go. Translate." Daniel rolled his eyes and left the room. "Jonny, you sleep okay?"

"I did," Jonny said, seeming a little more flustered than Jack was used to seeing him. "Are you meeting with Hammond about what happened last night?"

"I don't know, but it will have to come up."

Jonny nodded and looked down at his hands. "I wish it didn't," he said.

"So do I," Jack said. "Now, today do you work with Daniel or with Carter?"

Jonny flushed. "Major Carter, and I'm a little late."

"Go on," Jack said. "I'll check in on you later."

Jonny grinned and left with his little dog chasing the rubber end of one of his crutches enthusiastically. Jack got a shower and then took care of a few odds and ends before heading to Carter's lab to see what the wunderkind were up do.

He found them tinkering with inexplicable machinery with tools that were even less explicable. He sighed and left them to it, heading to Hammond's office a little early, wandering up through the briefing room. There he saw the general through the window, fuming silently. He started to go back the way he came, but as he turned, he heard the door open behind him and Hammond said, "O'Neill, in here, now!"

Jack walked in with alacrity, if not eagerness. "Sir?" he said, coming to attention. Hammond waved at him impatiently and he shifted to a more relaxed stance.

Hammond paced twice across the length of his desk. He was unusually agitated, and his tone was angry when he finally spoke. "Did you know that Dr. Jackson was going to call the president?" he asked.

Jack felt a deep sense of apprehension come over him, and his eyes widened. "No," he said quietly. "Did he?"

"He did," Hammond said curtly. "He told the president that it was a crime not to grant Race Bannon clearance, and that something had to be done about it."

"Did he?" Jack asked, feeling a mixture of dismay and awe.

"He did." Hammond paused in his pacing, his back to Jack. "He also threatened to quit if Bannon was not given clearance."

"Did it work?" Jack asked, and Hammond turned an inimitable glare on him. "I mean, that's bad."

The door opened and Daniel walked in. He looked startled to see Jack and Hammond in such an intense conversation. He started to back out. "I'm sorry, I thought . . . Rodriguez said to come right in."

"Indeed, Dr. Jackson, do," Hammond said, turning. "Gentlemen, pray be seated."

Jack sat without any ado. If he hadn't already been given a head's up, that mode of address would have told him that the general was in a bad mood. Hammond always got very formal when he was upset. Daniel picked up on the atmosphere instantly. He looked at the general, then glanced at Jack, then crossed his arms without sitting down. "I take it that the president got hold of you."

"He did," Hammond said sourly. "What possessed you to call the president?"

"Have you heard yet that Race called here last night?"

"What?!" Hammond exclaimed. "No, I hadn't." His eyes darted to Jack's face, and Jack was too slow in attempting to display surprise. "O'Neill, did you know about this?"

"Yes, sir, but it was a done deal by the time I found out."

Daniel shot him a prim look, and cleared his throat. "Well, he called last night, my office, and I assumed that he wouldn't have been able to do that without clearance. News around here either moves at the speed of light or it takes a week." Hammond grimaced, but he didn't deny the simple truth of the statement. "So, being delighted that Race had finally gotten clearance, I gave Jonny the phone."

Hammond pursed his lips and nodded. "I see. You don't have to explain any farther."

"So, what's coming of my phone call?" Daniel asked, neither sounding nor looking the least bit repentant.

"I have a meeting in four hours with Mr. Bannon," Hammond said. He sat heavily in his chair. "And it's up to me to decide whether to give him clearance, or not."

"Then that settles it, doesn't it?" Daniel said with a grin. When Hammond didn't respond, his brows drew together. "It does settle it, right?"

"Son, there are plenty of reasons –"

"No." Daniel spoke with authority and volume. "Aside from cases of abuse, there are no valid reasons for keeping a parent away from a child." Hammond started to speak, but Daniel shook his head. "He's his guardian, chosen by his father, and he had a hand in raising him. He's a parent. More importantly, Jonny thinks of him as a parent."

"The fact remains, he is only a guardian," Hammond said.

"It's the same damned thing!" Daniel growled, and he was angrier than Jack had ever seen him get at the general. He turned around and stamped out, muttering under his breath. "God damned bureaucratic morons without –" The slam of the door put a premature period to that sentence.

Hammond stared after him in silence for a moment, then said, "I really didn't expect that, not from Dr. Jackson."

Jack shrugged. "He's got a kind of sensitive spot about kids who are caught up in the system," Jack said. "If we just leave him alone for a bit, he should be okay." He stood up. "And sir, I'd see if there was any way to get Race here soon. Jonny does need him."

"I'll do what I can, Jack, but you know there are limits."

"Bend them. I think Daniel's serious about this."

"Can't you talk some sense into him?" Hammond asked. "Quitting won't solve anything."

"It will make a point," Jack said. "And if I try to persuade him not to, it will only piss him off, this time at me. Besides, I kind of agree with him, sir."

* * *

"Inconsiderate . . . no comprehension . . . stupid . . ." Daniel was searching for his notes on the Pramlin statuette, and not finding them. "Why can't people . . . it's just . . . damn it!"

"Daniel?" asked a calm, concerned voice behind him. He turned to find Sam in his doorway. "What's up?" she said.

"General Hammond is meeting with Race today to see if he's willing to grant him clearance," Daniel said angrily, turning all the way around to face her. He crossed his arms.

"Isn't that good?" she asked, walking in. Her eyes were puzzled.

"It would be if General Hammond wasn't making it sound like he was going to be looking for reasons to deny clearance," Daniel snapped. "I swear, all bureaucracies are the same. Jonny doesn't deserve this, and I sincerely doubt that Race does."

"I'm sure the general will give him a fair chance."

"Unless he's under orders from higher up to . . ." Daniel trailed off, shaking his head.

"I don't think that's likely to be the case, Daniel," Sam said. "This is the general we're talking about. He's not going to decide this before he talks to the man."

"Well, I hope, for Jonny's sake, that he makes the right decision." He pursed his lips. "And for Race's sake. And for mine. I don't really want to quit the program." He turned around and took up the search again, his mind contemplating who of his department would be best suited to take his place. "Cameron's still pretty green, but he's adaptable, and his time with Dixon should help him more readily adjust to Jack's sardonic take on life."

"Daniel!" Sam exclaimed. She came around his desk and stared at him, appalled. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you think I'd better make preparations? Just in case?"

"No!" She seemed stunned. "Daniel, this is crazy."

"I won't work for a government that holds kids hostage like this. The NID wants him, so they're putting roadblocks in Race's path, try to make him look bad and who cares what's best for Jonny? Sometimes I want to strangle the people in charge."

"Daniel, I've never seen you like this. Not even about the Goa'uld."

He let out an explosive sigh. "Well, you know, the Goa'uld are evil. It's their essence. That's just how they are. This is our government, and when they even get Hammond equivocating over whether or not he's going to do the right thing, it . . ." He shook his head. "What can I say? What I went through growing up would be nothing compared to what will happen to Jonny if the NID got hold of him. He doesn't need their kind of mind games."

"I know that, Daniel, and I'm sure the general knows that, but we would never let the NID get him."

"Anyway, Sam, I've got work to do," he said, finally locating the notepad. "Hicks is waiting for this translation."

"Right." Sam stepped back. "Well, I'll see you later." He waved a goodbye at her and got down to work. If he had to leave, he'd better get as much work done as he could beforehand.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Race paced in the little meeting room. This General Hammond had sounded very sober and serious, but nothing he'd said had given Race the slightest hint of what their meeting would be about, or what it would take to gain the clearance he needed to see Jonny.

This was nothing more than a music practice room at the Air Force Academy that had two chairs and a table placed inside. There was even a music stand shoved up against the wall. Presumably, it had been chosen for its sound deadening qualities.

The door opened and Race whipped around. He found himself facing a very solid man in his later middle years who had a dignified bearing and a somber air. "I am General George Hammond," he said.

"Major Roger Bannon, retired," Race said automatically.

"Navy man, as I understand it."

"I was, sir, yes."

"Then you went to work for I-1?" Race nodded silently. He'd been told before this interview even started that Hammond had the highest clearance imaginable. "Tell me about how you left I-1."

Race pursed his lips. "They decided to transfer me to another assignment, and I chose to resign rather than accept the transfer."

"Why did they want to transfer you?"

"I'm sure it's all there in my records, sir. What is this about?"

Hammond looked down at his hands, then up to meet Race's eyes. His expression was implacable but there was something in his gaze that told Race he'd better to pay attention. "Look, son, I need to be able to say I've had a frank conversation with you and that I believe you should be granted clearance." He paused. "Please just tell me about it in your own words."

Race grimaced. "Okay." He cleared his throat. "In order to do that I need to start a lot earlier." Hammond indicated that he should go on. "Jonny's mother was murdered when he was six years old," Race said. "This happened after Dr. Quest requested bodyguards for his family and the request was denied." Hammond winced. "Exactly. After her death, of course, I-1 assigned guards to the family, but the first two succeeded in alienating both Jonny and Dr. Quest sufficiently that Benton was ready to quit altogether. Needless to say, Jonny wasn't the easiest child to handle after witnessing his mother's death, but I managed okay, and at the term of eighteen months, which is how long those tours tend to last, it was decided between my superiors and Dr. Quest that Jonny needed stability more than anything else, so I stayed on, and I don't know that the decision was ever reviewed after that, until shortly after Jonny's thirteenth birthday when I-1 suddenly decided that I had become too close to the family and they needed to remove me."

"Eight years?" Hammond asked. "They waited eight years to decide this?"

"Yes sir. And they gave me approximately two weeks to wrap up my assignment and head to my next one."

"Hmm," Hammond said.

"I was also told, despite the fact that I was the boy's legal guardian in the case of anything happening to their father, that I should avoid contact with the family for awhile so that the relationship could die a natural death." Race felt his entire body tensing up as he remembered that time. "They claimed, further, that I had a contractual obligation to fulfill and could not refuse the assignment. I disagreed and hired a lawyer to break the contract. We took them to court and won, which could have some relevance to my difficulty getting clearance. I think I annoyed some people."

"I can well imagine," Hammond said with feeling. "So, how do you feel about Dr. Quest?"

"He . . ." Race gulped. Frank. He was supposed to be frank. "He's like a brother."

"If he came back . . . less than himself . . . would you stay on with the family?"

"Of course!" Race replied angrily. "They're my family!"

"People have been know to leave families when the going got tough," Hammond observed neutrally.

Race's temper exploded. "God damn it! 'When' the going got tough. 'When'? Do you honestly think I'd leave them now after all the shit we've been through? I'd certainly never leave Jonny or Hadji! You seem to be leaving him out of the equation."

"I'm not," Hammond replied. "However, the current situation seems likely to be harder on Dr. Quest than on Hadji who, I gather, is a young man of uncommon resources."

Race stared at him. "How do you know what Hadji is or isn't?" he demanded. "And how do you know how he's handling the current situation?" Hammond closed his mouth, looking uncomfortable, and Race felt his temper slipping away again. "You've got intelligence, and you . . . no one's told me anything! God damned cold hearted sons of –"

"Please do not finish that sentence," Hammond said sharply. "I'm on your side, Major Bannon!"

"It's hard to tell," Race snapped.

Hammond drew himself up erect, his eyes snapping with anger. "I have to be impartial. I have to make this a meaningful interview, and you're not helping with your emotional outbursts."

Race bit his lips, feeling slightly chastened. "I'm sorry, it's just . . . the four of us are a very close family, and no one in the government seems to understand that. They see me as a freeloading interloper, and Hadji as . . . as much the same. After all, nobody ever really just likes rich people."

The general blinked at him for a moment. "I can honestly say that the money had never entered my thoughts," he said, and to his surprise, Race believed in his sincerity.

"That makes you a rare man, General Hammond," he replied.

"Perhaps it's because it has so little relevance to my command, except for keeping the lights on." Race didn't quite know what to say to that, so he stayed silent. "In any case, you answered my question." Hammond looked thoughtful for a moment. "You would not be able to bring your wife and daughter with you," he said.

Race bit his lip. "I realized that from the outset and have already made other arrangements for them." He had, in fact, sent them to Phil and an I-1 safe house. "What with Jonny's alarming talk about not trusting either Hadji or Benton, we thought it would be better if they were somewhere no one would expect to find them."

"That's probably a good thing. I was going to call you in the next day or so anyway, or arrange to have someone call you. Dr. Zin has apparently become interested in the situation."

Race threw his head back, looking to the sky. "For the love of Christ!" he exclaimed.

"He abducted one of my staff," Hammond said.

"And?"

"And the man escaped and returned to us, none the worse for wear."

"You're very lucky, then. Do me a favor . . . do us all a favor, if you ever run into him, shoot him, on sight."

Hammond did not reply directly. "Do you have everything with you that you'd need for an extended stay?" he asked instead.

Race nodded. "And Stell and Jessie are already in protective custody with people I trust."

"Good. I am granting you clearance, but you need to know first that this is the most highly classified projects in the world today."

"What does Jonny have to do with it? I mean, if it's that highly classified, why bring a fifteen-year-old into it?"

"He was already in it up to his ears when we ran across him," Hammond said. "And he won't be safe anywhere but our base until the situation is resolved."

"I see," Race said, but he didn't, he was only being polite. He could keep Jonny safe anywhere. He didn't need a lot of Air Force professors telling him how to protect Jonny after all these years. He realized that Hammond was watching him, reading him. He had a powerful feeling that the general knew exactly what he was thinking. "I understand, general," he said more formally.

"I don't believe you do, son." Hammond cleared his throat. "In 1928, an object was found on the Giza plateau, a large circle of an unknown metal. Many theories were propounded about its purpose, many tests were run on it, but no one was able to figure out its purpose until nearly seven years ago, when Dr. Daniel Jackson translated the symbols on its coverstone, and discovered that it is a stargate."

"And what is its purpose?" Race asked.

"Well, you've read Dr. Samantha Carter's book, I gather, if you had the kids read it." Race nodded, puzzled by the reference. "It creates a stable wormhole between two points in space, and is the source of her theory, which is not theory precisely, because it's based on observed phenomena."

"Stable wormholes?" Race repeated, stunned. "You're not talking about space travel, are you?"

"I am," Hammond said, and it wasn't possible not to believe him. "The wormholes are formed based on the location of other gates, and the position of the stars. The actual science a great deal beyond me, but the point is, Dr. Quest, Hadji and Jonny were kidnapped by . . . by aliens in a space ship."

"Little green men with big eyes?" Race asked, wondering if he was being tested somehow.

"No, those gentlemen are on our side, and they're really more gray than green." Race stared at Hammond, wondering if he was being put on. "The aliens who took Dr. Quest and his sons are parasites that burrow their way into a human host and take over all voluntary functions." Race was having a bit of trouble taking this in, but Hammond went on. "And you should know that Jonny was recovered on another planet."

Race made an involuntary sound of dismay, embarrassingly high-pitched. "Why? Were you there looking for him? When did you know they'd been taken?"

Hammond looked vaguely embarrassed. "Actually, it was a coincidence." Race's heart stopped. "We had a team on that planet on routine reconnaissance. They encountered a hostile force, who were apparently chasing Jonny. We brought him home, and that's how we discovered that the Quests were missing."

"Can I faint now?" Race asked weakly. "_Jonny _found _you _. . . by accident?"

"Completely," Hammond said, nodding sympathetically. "However he is safely on my base now, and learning a lot from Dr. Jackson and Major Carter."

"I'm sure. He's a sponge for knowledge, but . . ." Race shook his head. "That you found him by accident . . ."

"I know," Hammond said. "And the consequences had we not had a team there . . ." He paused, looking distressed. "Once a wormhole is formed, anything that is sent through will materialize at the other end. This includes bombs as well as people, so we can't simply leave our gate unprotected." Race didn't think he could form words, so he nodded to show that he understood. "Jonny was given the gate address that would have allowed him to dial the earth gate, but . . ."

"Your protections?" Race asked after a moment.

Hammond nodded grimly. "A titanium shield forms less than a millimeter from the event horizon."

"That close?" Race asked. "But . . . wouldn't that prevent anything from materializing?"

"Yes, which is convenient when it's a bomb coming through the gate, or other forms of attack."

"Of course."

"If Jonny had dialed the earth gate, we would have had no way of knowing who was at the other end, and the person who gave him the address either didn't know or didn't care about the existence of the iris. There is some question about just who exactly gave it to him, you see."

"Doesn't Jonny know?" Race asked.

Hammond pursed his lips. "He says it was Hadji," the general said, and Race felt a sense of alarm at the phrasing of the sentence and the look on Hammond's face. "But Hadji had been taken over by one of those aliens . . . they're called the Goa'uld . . . so it's not absolutely certain that it was Hadji. For one thing, Hadji could not have known the gate address to earth."

"Hadji . . ." Race was horrified by the idea of some parasite entering Hadji's body and taking him over. "Is there anything that can be done for him?"

Hammond nodded. "There is a procedure for removing the symbiote, and we have people standing by to perform it on a moment's notice."

"But then . . . why would . . . you think this Goa'uld thing wanted to kill Jonny?"  
"It's possible. We don't know what to make of it, because Jonny is claiming something for Hadji that we have never found to be possible before, that he is fighting the possession of the Goa'uld. From other sources, I've been told that if anyone could do it, Hadji could, but it's hard to be certain."

"What other sources?" Race demanded. "Who else have you been talking about this with who knows Hadji?"

"General Jacob Carter, Major Carter's father. I gather he –"

"Jake?" Race exclaimed, thinking back on the man. "He's the last person I'd expect to get mixed up with . . . but if his daughter's involved . . ." He shook his head. "So, this Major Carter, is she also Dr. Carter, of the wormhole book?" He shook his head before Hammond could reply. "Of course she is," he answered himself. "I knew she was an Air Force officer when I read the book. I remember Jonny saying that he thought . . ." He grimaced. "That he thought that scientists who were also serving military officers were encouraged to be less imaginative than that."

"In some commands, I believe they are. Not in mine." Hammond took a deep breath. "Jacob told me that he could believe Hadji was capable of fighting the Goa'uld back from control over his mind, given how well I know Jacob, I'm inclined to believe him. He has reason to know, for one thing, and he's always been very hard-headed."

"So . . . Hadji is more in control of himself than most people are." Hammond nodded and Race bit his lip. "Okay. You haven't mentioned Benton in all of this. What's going on with him, or do you know?"

"Dr. Quest has also been taken by a Goa'uld, a very powerful Goa'uld who is known for taking intelligent and creative hosts to increase his own knowledge."

"Good God!" Race exclaimed. "Benton's mind . . . his knowledge . . ."

"We've already reprogrammed the passwords for the satellites," Hammond said instantly, and Race nodded weakly. "Though it was Jonny who thought of it."

"I want to see him," Race said. "You said I had clearance."

"I did and you do," Hammond replied. "However, I thought you might want to be filled in first. For one thing, we haven't told Jonny about the fact that he would have been killed if he'd tried to come home solo."

"Why not?" Race asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"His mood has been somewhat precarious at times, and we didn't want to upset him any more than we already had."

"I want to see him now," Race said urgently. "But afterwards, I think we had better have a long talk about Hadji. You need to know more about what he's capable of."

Hammond gazed at him. "I see. Now, are you aware that Jonny was injured during his retrieval from P(string)?"

"Is that the name of the planet?" Race asked.

"Yes."

"Yes, I knew he was hurt. Broken ankle?"

Hammond nodded. "Our doctor says he's healing nicely, but it will take time."

"Right."

"You should also know that Jonny has had contact with a number of aliens, not just the Goa'uld."

"A number . . . the little gray guys? With the big eyes?"

"No, he hasn't seen them. We haven't seen them for some months, actually. No, there is an alien living on the base, a Jaffa. He actually comes of genetically modified human stock, but his body is sufficiently different that he is of a different species."

"And Jonny has contact with him?"

"Yes. Apparently Bandit is quite fond of him."

Race blinked. "I see. And other aliens?"

"The Tok'ra," Hammond said. "They're of the same . . . family as the Goa'uld, but with a different outlook on the world. They are our allies, and thus far, they've been far more responsive to Jonny than to us. Of course . . ." Hammond paused. "He is very young and extremely intelligent. That has to have had an impact on them."

"Yes, and I need to see him," Race said, and the urgency in his tone rose beyond his control.

"Of course," Hammond said with a fatherly smile. "Do you have a vehicle?"

"I rented a car at the airport."

"I'll have someone return it for you," Hammond said. "You can come to the base with me."

"I take it I won't need a car on base?" Race asked, contemplating the sheer size of some of the Air Force facilities he'd visited. What with hangars and runways, they were seldom small.

"No," Hammond said with a hint of a grin. "Not on my base."

Race followed Hammond out to a military issue sedan. Air Force cadets looked curiously at them as they passed, a general in dress blues and a civilian in considerably more casual clothes.

They collected Race's baggage and headed out into the middle of nowhere. After about a half hour, Race was sure enough of his growing suspicion to voice it aloud. "Are we going to Cheyenne Mountain?"

"Yes, we are," Hammond said. "I thought you'd figure it out, if you didn't already know."

Race sat back against the vinyl seat and tried to take in the incredible amount of truly unbelievable information. It was a lot to assimilate, and if the meeting hadn't taken place at the Air Force Academy, with a very stern and proper general, he might have been tempted to treat it as a joke.

"So," he said after awhile, "Dr. Jackson works for you as a linguist?"

Hammond nodded without taking his eyes off the road. "Also as a cultural expert. There are a lot of transplanted humans out there, and many of their cultures strongly resemble cultures from the distant past, or have evolved in isolation from those ancient cultures." He shrugged. "Often Dr. Jackson's our only chance of understanding what's going on with a new group of people, even if they didn't originate from Earth."

Benton would be fascinated, Race thought, but even as the thought crossed his mind, he winced. From the sound of things, Benton was getting a considerably closer look at those other cultures than any of them would want. He cleared his throat and tried not to think about it. "You said Jonny's learning from Dr. Jackson and Major Carter?"

"Yes." Hammond was silent for a moment, then he said, "Dr. Jackson and Major Carter are two of the four members of SG-1, our primary offworld team. I believe you've already met Colonel O'Neill, who commands SG-1."

"I did, once," Race replied. This, then, was the program Benton had turned down twice. No wonder he hadn't been able to share the details with Race afterwards. "But if they're an offworld team, how much time do they have for teaching?"

"Lots at the moment," Hammond said. "I've put them on standby because I asked Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson to keep an eye on Jonny for me."

"Why them?"

"Because he already knew them both and was moderately comfortable with them, and because they were the closest we could get to a familiar environment for him."

"Familiar –" Race cried. He caught himself before he said anything rude or damaged the dashboard of the car. "I'm sorry, sir, but with me ready and able to come and take charge of him, that just seems ridiculous."

"It is," Hammond said. "I thought so at the time, and so did O'Neill and Jackson, but we were forbidden from contacting you directly. I could only assume that there was a good reason." Race grimaced, and Hammond gave him a sympathetic grin. "However, as Jonny kept insisting that there was . . . well . . . a conspiracy, I requested as many of your case files as they'd let me have."

"A conspiracy?" Race exclaimed. "I'm certain Jonny said no such thing."

"Not in so many words, but when someone tells you that there are forces in the government working against them, what does that sound like to you?"

"It's not . . . that makes him sound paranoid and crazy, and he's not."

"I don't think he is," Hammond said, sounding amused. "We have our own issues with certain sections of the government. Regardless, I think someone must like you in the I-1 records office, because not all of my packet was strictly regulation. There were some memos that probably shouldn't have been included, some of which referenced that court case we discussed earlier."

"Really?" Race said thoughtfully. "That's interesting to know." He wondered who his friend was.

"In any case, the other reason I set SG-1 to looking after him is that I got warnings from Director Corvin that Jonny was liable to get himself into trouble if not given adequate supervision."

"Now that's not fair," Race protested.

"He didn't mean anything insulting by it, I'm certain," Hammond said. "But the boy is unusually bright and left too much to his own devices, he'd come up with his own plan to rescue his father and brother. That could be dangerous, and not just for him."

Race wanted to argue, but he knew Jonny too well. Grimacing, he sighed. "It never does any good to leave Jonny out of a plan, because if you don't include him, he'll fit himself in somewhere." He snorted. "Jonny and Hadji both, truthfully. The number of times those boys turned up where they weren't supposed to be appalls me." He grimaced again. "And the number of times we would have been lost if they hadn't also appalls me."

"I know how you feel," Hammond replied. "Dr. Jackson has saved our butts more times than I'd like to think about, and sometimes by acting like GI Joe, or Rambo, which is a little out of character. Given the number of people on base that it would be in character for, it's also a little galling. Still, more often than not, he does it by disobeying orders and persuading others to do the same." He snorted. "Sometimes even my orders."

Race raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought you'd put up with that."

"You don't tell Mozart how to play the piano," Hammond said cryptically.

"Jackson's a genius at saving butts?" Race asked, his lips twisting into an ironic smile.

"Let's just say I'm very glad he's on our side."

Race chuckled. He could think of several people that applied to. "So, has Jonny . . . has he had any . . . problems?"

Hammond glanced sideways at him. "He had a nightmare early in his stay with us and managed to break a corpsman's ribs and bruise the daylights out of Colonel O'Neill's hip, but after that we discussed it with him, and he gave us a better idea of how to wake him."

"Did he hurt himself at all?" Race asked urgently.

"No, not at all. Dr. Fraiser x-rayed his foot again to make certain he didn't injure himself further." Hammond pursed his lips. "It wasn't a pleasant scene. No one mentioned his phobia of guns, and when violence breaks out on base, there are some fairly standard reactions."

Race felt the blood drain from his face. "God, what happened?"

Hammond sighed. "No one had told us much of anything at that point. We didn't know about his combat training, and we didn't know what triggered his panic attacks."

"And?"

"O'Neill attempted to wake him up from a nightmare, and Jonny sent him flying. The orderly and the doctor tried to restrain him, but he threw both of them off. I gather it was more or less at that point that he woke up, but someone heard the commotion and mistakenly set off the alarm and the security forces came in with their weapons in hand."

Race thumped his fist down on the sill of the window. "Damn it, I should have been there. It wouldn't have happened if I'd been there."

"He's well enough now, I promise you. As well as can be expected under the circumstances."

"How exactly did he get hurt?"

Hammond was silent for a moment. "That's . . . a bit complicated. When Jonny encountered our team, he was fleeing from guards who were hot on his trail. One of them fired a zat nicatel at him, which is a sort of energy weapon that stuns on its first shot. The blast grazed his shoulder, throwing him off balance –"

"He was shot! He was _shot!_ And _no one_ thought to mention this to me? And what does it do on its second shot if it stuns on its first?"

"It had a very limited effect on him," Hammond said. "And I'm afraid I didn't think about it when I read Jonny's letter or I might have suggested he tell you. He suffered no lasting ill effects except the broken ankle, which he got because he fell as a result of the –"

"Lasting ill effects or not, I have a right to know what happens to him, damn it!" Race growled. "And what does this weapon do on its second shot?"

Hammond cleared his throat. "It kills."

Race gulped. "So do we know how this alien found out about them? Why he'd have gone after them in particular?"

"We don't have any specific evidence indicating how he found out about them, though there are a number of theories, largely involving people who should never have gone offworld in the first place." Hammond seemed a bit irritated by this point. "As to why, we know that this particular Goa'uld is a scholar who makes a practice of selecting the bodies of learned men to inhabit so that he can gain their knowledge."

"Damn it!"

"My sentiments exactly," Hammond replied. "Quest is the only person I ever sent recruiters to twice. I understand from Dr. Jackson that he didn't want his sons within five hundred miles of the stargate." Race clenched his fists. That was a choice that had been taken away rather thoroughly. "And now Jonny has full clearance."

The car turned into a canyon and Race fell silent as they approached the mountain. The curved roof of the tunnel arched overhead as Hammond drove him deep within the living stone. Passing through the layers of security was easier than he'd expected, and Hammond, surprisingly, okayed his weapons when the security staff questioned them. They got into an elevator for a long ride down. Race's anxiety grew with every second rather than diminishing.

"This way," Hammond said when the elevator doors opened, and Race followed him, heart in his throat. He'd been relieved of his baggage at the security post upstairs. Presumably it would be thoroughly searched and returned to him at some point.

The halls were full of people in military fatigues. Race felt as conspicuous as a sore thumb, and wondered how Jonny felt in a place where there were no kids and very few civilians without lab coats. They reached an enormous metal sliding door that stood open. Hammond led him inside where he saw a lovely blond woman bent over a piece of equipment that looked vaguely alien in design. Jonny was nearby at a computer.

"Twenty volts, Sam," Jonny said.

"Twenty? That doesn't sound right."

"I don't know, but –" He turned and his words broke off into stunned silence. To keep the boy from leaping up and trying to run on his broken ankle, Race ran across the room and hugged him tightly. Jonny threw his arms around him and latched on. There was babbling, but it was incoherent, and Race thought they could probably sort it out later.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Daniel reflected sourly that the military moved as slow as molasses as he made his way to Sam's office with a newly translated document that turned out to be detailed directions on how to run a piece of equipment that Sam had been trying to figure out for weeks. He came around the corner to see Hammond standing next to Sam, but they were both looking with slightly sappy expressions towards a corner of her office that was hidden from him until he got all the way inside.

He looked with curiosity to see what they were staring at, and stopped, eyes wide. Jonny was sitting in the desk chair and a white-haired man knelt in front of him, both his hands on Jonny's shoulders. The boy was speaking, but Daniel couldn't hear him. The delight in his eyes was evident, however.

Hammond sauntered over to him. "Not a bad piece of work between the two of us, wouldn't you say?" Daniel nodded mutely. Race looked as happy as Jonny did, and Bandit bounced around their feet like a maniacal wind up toy. "There are moments when having a civilian who steps out of the chain of command can be useful." Daniel blinked a couple of times and turned to find Hammond looking speculatively at him. "When it's necessary," Hammond added, and Daniel had no difficulty decoding his tone. The general appreciated his interference on this occasion as he had from time to time in the past, but Daniel was being gently admonished not to take this level of action lightly.

"Yes sir," Daniel said.

"Now, Dr. Jackson, would you see if you can get them moved to the VIP suite. This probably isn't the most suitable environment for a reunion."

"Of course, sir," Daniel said.

"Very good, then I'll leave them in your capable hands. Give him my extension and tell him to give me a call when he's ready." With that Hammond left. Daniel glanced over at Sam who was attempting valiantly to pay no attention to the touching reunion going on in her lab. He walked over. "Here, you might find this useful," he said, handing her the sheaf of papers. He left her looking through them curiously, and he knew when she'd figured out what they were because she squealed like a thirteen-year-old girl. Smiling, he walked over to Jonny and Race.

Jonny looked up as Daniel approached. "Daniel! Race, this is Daniel. He escaped from Zin's flunkies all on his own!"

Daniel found himself the object of thoughtful scrutiny. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jackson,' he said, and his voice held just a hint of Southern drawl.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you," Daniel said. "Call me Daniel. I thought I'd take you to where Jonny's been staying."

"Thank you," Race said. He grabbed Jonny's crutches and held them for him. Jonny got up and started towards the door.

He caught sight of Sam as he crossed the room, and he stopped and turned towards the table. "Sam, I'm sorry, do you mind?"

"No, of course not," she said. "I'm going to have to read through this before we go on." She waved Daniel's translation.

"What is it?" Jonny asked, taking a step closer.

"It appears to be the instruction manual," she said, giving Daniel a mock-glare.

"I didn't know until I translated it this morning," Daniel disclaimed, and she shrugged.

"You're kidding!" Jonny exclaimed.

"Nope," Sam said. "I think I'll take an early lunch and read through it."

Daniel took his charges to the elevator and listened to Jonny talking eagerly to Race about all he'd seen and done here. Or, if not all, everything that didn't have to do with Dr. Quest and Hadji. It was a relatively short trip to Jonny's room, and Daniel held the door for them, intending to go away as soon as he'd delivered his message to Race.

Jonny went straight over to the bed, and Race helped him get situated., then sat in the chair that had so often held Daniel or Jack. Daniel was very glad to see him there.

He cleared his throat when Jonny had wound down a bit and said, "Race, General Hammond asked me to have you call him when you were ready," Daniel said.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Jonny asked, his eyes going very wide and making him look extremely young. This interpretation of the general's instructions had not occurred to Daniel and he looked to Race for his answer.

"No, sport, I'm here to stay."

Jonny's anxiety didn't fade. "What about Jessie and Estella?"

"Phil's taking care of them."

"But you should be with Jessie," Jonny said falteringly. "I mean . . . she's . . . and I . . ."

Race shifted immediately to sit beside Jonny on the bed. "Jonny, you matter every bit as much to me as Jessie does, and right now you need me more than she does. Both of them understand, so don't you worry about it."

Jonny didn't look completely convinced, but Daniel knew it wasn't his business. "I think Jonny has the general's extension." Jonny nodded. "He also has mine. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything. I'll have the commissary send up some lunch shortly."

Race stood up and came across to him. "Thank you, Dr. Jackson. I'm sure it's not any coincidence that my reversal of fortunes comes directly after I spoke to you last night."

Daniel grimaced. "Let's not broadcast that fact," he said. "I'm in enough trouble."

"Of course," Race said with an understanding wink. "Thank you again for taking such good care of Jonny."

"Oh, that wasn't all me," Daniel protested. "Jack's been wonderful for him."

"Then I'll have to thank him, too," Race said.

"I'll make certain you get your chance," Daniel said. "But if you'll excuse me, I have to be going back to work."

Daniel headed off in search of Jack, and it took some time to locate him. In the end, he found him in the last place he'd have expected to . . . in his office. Daniel opened the door and found Jack, the keyboard of his computer pushed to the side, bent over paper writing out something in longhand. Daniel narrowed his eyes in perplexity. "Jack, why aren't you using your computer?" he asked.

Jack looked up. "Why would I? I've got a pen and paper, and I know how to use them."

Daniel rolled his eyes and dropped into a chair. "This has turned out to be a great day."

"A great day, huh?" Jack asked. "An hour ago you were threatening to quit."

Daniel shrugged. "That's all over now," he said.

"All over?" Jack said. "Why's that? What changed?"

Daniel blinked at him. "You . . . you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Well, you knew Hammond was meeting with Race today, what do you think might have changed to make me feel better?"

"These damned Socratic conversations are irritat–" Abruptly Jack broke off and sat up straighter. "Race? Is he here?"

"He's with Jonny now," Daniel said with a grin. "And Hammond's not as angry at me as I would have expected."

"No?" Jack snorted. "I never thought he would be. He's got a soft spot for you, always has."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Jonny's happy, Race is happy, and they're in the VIP suite now." He sighed. "I'm glad it worked. I'd have hated fulfilling that promise."

"I'd have hated it worse," Jack said, looking up and meeting Daniel's eyes. "Don't do that again."

"I wouldn't have done it now, but there was a good reason for it. You know that."

Jack glared at him. "Whatever. I need to finish this report on your little escapade. Does 'whumped' have an 'h' in it or not?"

"It does," Daniel said, standing up and moving to look over Jack's shoulder. "What the hell are you writing?"

"A description of how you seemed when I found you," Jack said, covering his work with his hand like a self-righteous schoolboy.

Daniel crossed his arms with irritation. "Whatever," he replied. "Were you planning to turn in fiction? Hammond doesn't like fiction."

"Are we joining them for dinner?" Jack asked in an abrupt change of subject.

"I didn't ask. I thought they needed some time together alone, so I cleared out pretty quick."

"Right." Jack threw his pen down. "How about lunch?"

Daniel shrugged. "Sure."

* * *

So far Jonny had only told him fun stories about what had happened to him here at the SGC, but ever since the first transports of joy had left him, Race had been able to tell that he was taut as a bowstring. He shut the door behind Dr. Jackson and turned back to the bed. "So, kiddo, how are you really?"

Jonny shrugged. "I'm good," he said, but his eyes betrayed his calm demeanor.

Race walked over and sat down with him. "Nightmares back?"

Jonny squinted his eyes and turned away. "Yeah," he said shortly.

"Bad as before?"

"Worse," Jonny said, and Race grimaced. Jonny had his arms crossed and his eyes downcast. Clearly he wasn't going to volunteer anything.

"Jonny, what happened? I know it's not going to be easy, and that you've probably talked about it more than you wanted to anyway, but I need to know."

Jonny made a face. "I knew you'd want to know, but . . . I don't know . . ." Jonny trailed off, twisting his hands together unhappily. Bandit nuzzled under them and he began gently twisting the dog's ears instead.

"Just take a deep breath and start from the beginning."

The boy nodded. He took not one but two deep breaths and bit his lip. "Hadji, Dad and I went out for a walk in the woods. Bandit was with us but kind of wandering, you know how he gets in the woods."

"I do indeed," Race said with a smile.

"There was an odd sound, and the next thing I know we're all in this great big room filled with columns. No windows and the architecture was a weird mix of Egyptian and Greek, but only some of the writing was in Egyptian and none of it was in Greek. What wasn't in Egyptian was in something else, something I didn't recognize and neither did Hadji. Anyway, the situation seemed pretty standard. Hadji and I were making jokes and trying to guess how melodramatic the new bad guy would be based on the way the room looked."

"Right," Race said. He could just imagine it. Those boys about drove him to distraction when they got into those moods. Jessie was worse if anything. "So, what happened?"

"Hadji pointed to an inscription on one of the walls that was in the strange language, and wondered aloud what it said. Dad looked like he'd seen a ghost or something. He stared at it and walked over, tracing it with his hand. Hadji and I started talking again, but Dad told us to be quiet, pretty sharply too." Jonny pursed his lips. "You know how he gets when he knows things are really bad and none of us have realized it yet." Race nodded. "We asked him what was up, but he just waved us to be quiet and kept looking at them. Then he turned around real quick and looked around. I swear, he looked like he'd been poleaxed. Like something impossible had happened, only Hadji and I had no idea what it was. I can tell you, the look on his face scared the hell out of me, though."

"I can imagine," Race said. He'd seen Dr. Quest startled, surprised, shocked, but rarely anything he'd describe as poleaxed.

"Hadji and I were stunned into silence, and he looked hard at both of us. He said, 'Boys, this is bad. We have to be really careful not to anger our captors because they'll kill us as soon as spit on us, and we can't count on rescue.'" Jonny shivered at the memory and Race reached out and squeezed his shoulder. His heart was thumping, though. Jackson must have showed him some of that alien writing when he came for that visit, so Benton knew what he was looking at. "I told him you'd find us, and he got this weird look on his face and said that you'd have the devil's own time figuring out where we were. Hadji said we would escape and Dad just shook his head and told us that escape would be a lot harder than usual."

Race shifted so that he was sitting next to Jonny and put his arm around his shoulder. "It's okay, Jonny, we'll get them back."

"I know, but . . ." Jonny's voice was shaky. "That's when . . . see, six guys . . . they're called Jaffa . . . they came in with hand weapons that looked like snakes, they're called zat nicatels, and one of them talked to Dad in a language that neither Hadji nor I understood. Dad . . . he spoke back to them, not like he knew the language but like he was trying to communicate in a language he didn't really know. Anyway, one of them hit him across the face. We tried to stop them, but the fired those weapons at us and we were knocked out."

"I see." Race squeezed Jonny's shoulders. "Go on, kiddo. I know it's hard."

"We woke up and Dad was gone, and we had no idea what was going on. We were alone in a strange place, there were two doors that wouldn't open. We tried the computer pads next to the doors, but nothing we tried worked." Tears started pouring down Jonny's face and Race stroked his hair. "We tried to get past them when they brought food, but they were a lot bigger than us, and we . . ."

"It's okay, Jonny. Don't fret. I'm betting that bigger, stronger men than you haven't been able to escape from these bozos, so it's not your fault."

Jonny shrugged. "I guess. So for three days nothing happened, just meals. Then . . . did they tell you about the Goa'uld?"

"The snakes that burrow in and take people over from the inside, yeah."

"Well, Dad came back only he wasn't Dad. He came in and started talking in that other language, which Daniel calls Goa'uld. I guess there are variants, but I couldn't repeat enough of it accurately for him to get a good read on it." Race nodded. Non sequiturs made it easier to get past the hard memories. Jonny would return to the point. "I just saw Dad and . . ." He sniffled. "You know how I get when anything happens to Dad. I was freaking out. It was all Hadji could do to keep me from ungluing for those three days. He got me to working on memorizing the symbols on the columns." Race knit his eyebrows. "Oh, I forgot to mention that. There was stuff written on the columns, in the flutes, and Hadji thought we'd better memorize it so when we were rescued we had more information."

"I see. Did you memorize them all?"

Jonny nodded. "Mostly. I missed a few when I wrote it all down, but I got most of it."

"Good."

Jonny rubbed at his eyes. "So, Dad came back and I ran over to him, glad to see him, and he knocked me flat the minute I got in range."

"Jonny, you know it couldn't have been your father."

"I know, but . . . it was horrible. Hadji yelled at them and came over to me, getting me to sit up and stuff, but the guards grabbed him. He fought back, but there was nothing either of us could do. I was barely standing on my feet, and they just . . . they just took him."

Race hugged Jonny close. He knew his little Jonny. Despite his own expressed belief that he couldn't do anything to stop it, he felt intensely guilty for not helping either his father or Hadji. "It's not your fault, kiddo. You couldn't have stopped it."

"I know, but . . . they're all messed up and I couldn't do anything and now I'm dreaming about Dad being Crandall and it's not fair!"

"Oh, Jonny!" Race pulled him into a tight hug. "It's okay. That's a totally normal dream, taking things that don't make sense to us in our waking minds and putting them together."

"But Dad isn't like Crandall."

"But is it really your dad in the dream, Jonny? Or is it this Goa'uld?"

"I don't know!" Jonny cried. "I just know I hate it and I want it to go away."

"Of course you do, but it will take time, just like the first Crandall dreams did. It will go away."

"I know, but . . ." Jonny buried his face in Race's shoulder and Race just held him for awhile until he mastered himself enough to go on with the story. "So another three days went by, and then Hadji came back."

"What was he like?"

"Horrible," Jonny said unequivocally. "His face kept writhing, and there was him and not-him. It went back and forth, like there was some kind of war going on inside his body." Race found this description very disturbing, but he tried to conceal it. "He shoved me across the room, then hurried over and apologized, said there was a monster inside him and that he'd learned a lot of stuff from him. He had to get me out of there and he had a way for me to escape, that I had to find a circle of stone and I'd understand things when I got there. He gave me a scrap of parchmenty stuff and told me how to get off the ship. I followed his instructions, and these weird ring things came down out of the ceiling and transported me to the surface of the planet somehow. I ran, and within a couple of minutes there were Jaffa after me. They had zats, that's what Jack calls the zat nicatels, and . . ." He shrugged. "It was a chase, pretty normal."

"Normal?" Race asked dubiously. The tense tone of Jonny's voice suggested otherwise.

"Okay, so it was really long, and I had no idea where I was or where I was going, or what was going on exactly. I was terrified. I heard the sound of a shot behind me and dodged and went rolling down a hillside."

"Is that when you broke your ankle?"

Jonny shook his head. "No, that was later, not much later, but later. I started to get up, but something slammed into me and rolled me out of sight under an outcropping, and that turned out to be a marine named Sullivan. We waited there until the sounds moved away, but when we got up, someone shot at us and I shoved him out of the way, and it hit my shoulder, knocking me off balance. I must have stepped on something then. I didn't feel it when it happened, but when Sullivan started to show me to the gate, I couldn't stand up."

"The gate," Race repeated, shaking his head. "The stargate . . . that's just such a strange concept."

"It is," Jonny agreed. "I haven't seen it again. I haven't been permitted anywhere near the gateroom since I got here. They're probably afraid I'll try to go after Dad and Hadji, but with a broken foot, I'm not going to get very far."

"Not likely," Race said. "And I'm just as glad they're being careful about that. So, what happened then?"

"Sullivan threw me over his shoulder," Jonny said with a grimace. "That is an extremely uncomfortable way to travel, I have to say."

"I'd guess. And they took you through the gate. Did they know who you were yet?"

Jonny shook his head. "One of them pointed out that I was speaking English, but the guy in charge, I think his name is Feretti, said he was confused by the translator."

"So, you came through the gate?"

"Yeah, and they had guns trained on everyone who came through the wormhole. I guess that's always the case, just in case something goes wrong. So I announced that my Dad and brother were being held prisoner and that I needed to speak to Phil Corvin as soon as possible. It really confused them, I think. Anyway, Dr. Jackson saw me and recognized me and everything was okay."

"Just like that?"

"Well, there were medical exams, including an MRI to make sure I didn't have a snake in me, and then Dr. Fraiser set my leg and . . ." Jonny shrugged. "A lot of stuff happened. They were worried that I might have been brainwashed into being a plant or something because they couldn't believe that Hadji could fight the Goa'uld. This really weird Tok'ra woman came, dressed like a Star Trek alien babe, and she used a machine that was designed to see if there was any missing time in my week spent on the Goa'uld ship."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah, but I forgot to describe a sneeze, so we had to start one of the days over." Race blinked at him, a little startled. "Once that was over with, everything got to be pretty mundane. I'm learning Goa'uld, and working with Daniel and Sam, and that's about it. I know they're looking for Dad and Hadji, but Thoth isn't going to be an easy guy to find from what I've understood."

"Thoth?" Race repeated. "Not . . . not Thoth as in Thoth?"

"Yup. The Thoth."

"But . . . he's really Thoth?"

"That's debatable," Jonny said. "See, the Goa'uld took the place of many of the ancient Egyptian gods, and a lot of other ancient gods for that matter. But it really comes down to a question of which came first, the Goa'uld or the god. With Thoth, apparently, there's some question, at least in part because the history is difficult to track. Much of the time period here is before the written word, and it's hard to know how much to trust of Goa'uld records."

"I'd guess so," Race said, amused and impressed to see Jonny speaking so knowledgeably.

"I can't imagine why Dad didn't want to work here. It's cool."

Race shrugged. "Ironically enough, it's because he wanted to keep you and Hadji out of harm's way."

Jonny rested his head on Race's shoulder. "And this is how it ended?" He sighed. "I want them back now, Race. I don't . . . I don't know how long I can take this."

"It'll be okay, sport," Race said, though he was by no means certain of that. "These guys are professionals."

"Why does the general want you to call him?"

"I told him I needed to give him some more information about what Hadji's capable of so that they can be better prepared."

"You don't . . ." Jonny shook his head. "I never thought about it, but if the Goa'uld did get control over Hadji, he'd have some pretty formidable abilities in his possession."

"Assuming he could control them," Race corrected, stroking Jonny's hair. "After all, it took Hadji years of intense focus to learn them. The body may have them, but I doubt the mind will be able to access them without the same kind of discipline Hadji has."

"Maybe not," Jonny said, and he clearly felt relieved by the notion. "The one thing I have learned about the Goa'uld in the reports about missions and the translations of histories I've read, it's that discipline isn't one of their chief assets." His young face grew quite somber. "Except, from what we've learned about Thoth, that may not be the case for him."

"It's too soon to worry about it, Jonny. So, do I take it that Thoth is the one who has your father."

"That's what we think," Jonny said. "He collects scholars and smart people. That's probably why he didn't want me much when he already had Dad and Hadji."

Race almost bit his own tongue. "What? What makes you think that?"

"Well, he didn't put anyone in me, and he didn't even try to come talk to me, even though by that point he'd been in Dad long enough that he had to know English." Jonny seemed to accept this idea meekly, and Race didn't know how or whether to suggest that he might have been saving Jonny for later. The kid still had no idea just how smart he really was. He probably, knowing him, thought that the NID wanted him at the moment only because they couldn't get his father or his brother. Benton had never wanted to tell him about the Corporation's IQ tests and what their results had turned out to be.

Race had always agreed, but there were moments, like this one, when he doubted their conclusions were valid. "Jonny . . ."

"Race, it's no big deal, I'm fine," Jonny said. "I just want them back."

* * *

Hadji sat cross-legged in the middle of Klorel's room, his eyes closed, his body as relaxed as he could achieve. He looked inward, seeking the central core of himself so that he could achieve restful meditation. The peace he sought was elusive, however. He could still feel the weight of Klorel's mind in the back of his own. The alien might be in a coma, but there was still a presence there, and it pulled Hadji out of the stillness he required for meditation.

The door to his chamber opened and Hadji looked up to see the Jaffa coming in. He rose gracefully before they could grab him and pull him to his feet. It was odd how none of them seemed to want to touch him anymore, unless circumstances required it. They hadn't been so shy with Klorel, but they seemed strangely reluctant to touch Hadji. Perhaps his ability to fight a 'god' and win had something to do with that. Regardless, so long as Hadji did was expected of him, the Jaffa kept their distance.

As he'd anticipated, they led him to the infirmary where they hooked him to the monitors again. In the three days since Klorel's mind had gone silent, they'd checked him six times, no doubt hoping to find that Klorel had awakened.

The infirmary door opened and a familiar face hove into view with an unfamiliar expression. Each time Hadji saw Thoth, it was jarring to see the alien mind behind his father's eyes. "Anything?"

"No, lord," said Tabeh. "All remains the same."

Thoth drew up a chair and sat down. "I have one more test I would like to make," he said, gazing down at Hadji. An odd, unpleasant smile quirked his lips. "One more hypothesis to check out before we move on to the next step."

If Hadji hadn't been strapped down he would have rolled off the exam bed to get further away from the wretched imitation of his father that leaned over him. As it was, he just turned his head away and tried to control a shudder of dismay.

"Come now, my boy," Thoth said, his voice for once undistorted. "There is no need for you to become unhappy. Your father is not dead, and he shall not die for some time to come. I have a use for him, as well as for you."

"And for my brother?" Hadji asked, keeping his tone calm despite the anger and fear that were coursing through him.

"Your brother . . . yes, I do have a use for him." Hadji stared in horror. "But that is not your concern. Not at this time, certainly." Hadji bit his lip and tried to control his terror. "Now, from the knowledge you have taken from Klorel's mind, do you know what the use of a sarcophagus is?"

Hadji blinked. "It is a healing device."

"It is. I wish to see if it will bring Klorel back to himself again."

"And if it does?"

"Then he will be removed from you and . . . if I am feeling generous, he will be given a new host."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then he will be removed and discarded as the useless piece of flesh he is."

"And I?"

"There is one in my dungeons from whom I wish to gain information. He has been stubborn, but I hope to find him less able to resist you."

Hadji stared at him. "You . . . you want me to . . . to . . ."

"To scour his mind for information. It is not time for that yet, however." Thoth rose. "Bring him," he ordered. Stunned, Hadji allowed himself to be placed into a small box and watched the lid close over him. He wanted his father back.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Jonny was frustrated. He usually enjoyed his history assignments, but right now the Chesapeake-Leopard incident took a definite second place to learning Goa'uld and helping Daniel translate texts, or working with Sam on some alien technology. Race had been adamant, however, that Jonny return to his schoolwork, and everyone else agreed with him. Thus, Jonny was sitting alone in Dr. Jackson's office, reading about an irritating skirmish that helped to bring about the War of 1812.

He sighed. That Race would undoubtedly provide, at the end of this lesson, one of his impossible essay questions only added to his annoyance. He looked down at his book, then carefully put a marker in and closed it. Pulling his crutches to him, he got up and crossed over to Daniel's desk to peek at what he'd been working on until the meeting with SG-9 had called him away. What Race didn't know wouldn't hurt anybody.

Gazing at the translation Daniel had been working on, Jonny was struck by inspiration. He grabbed a piece of scratch paper and started scribbling. He'd just put his thoughts down on paper and was contemplating how to slip them to Daniel without Race noticing when he heard a footstep behind him. Hoping it was Daniel but fearing it was Race, he turned around.

"Good afternoon, Jonny," Colonel Simmons said with a smile that looked highly unfriendly.

"Dr. Jackson is in a meeting," Jonny said dutifully. "I don't think he's going to be back for awhile."

"Good," Simmons said, walking into the room. Jonny raised his eyebrows, not sure what that was supposed to mean. "Surely you're not supposed to be standing up like that."

Jonny shrugged and moved back to his chair. "I have homework," he said. "I'll tell Dr. Jackson that you came by."

"I didn't come to see Dr. Jackson," Simmons said, drawing a chair up to sit close by Jonny. "I came to see you."

"I don't really want to talk to you, Colonel Simmons," Jonny said uneasily. "In fact, I think –" He was reaching for his crutches as he spoke but Simmons put his hand on them.

"Don't be in such a hurry, Jonny," the colonel said.

Jonny sat back, crossing his arms. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I'm sure your father would not approve of you being so ungracious."

"You might be surprised what my dad approves of," Jonny replied. "But you didn't answer my question."

"I have a few questions I wanted to ask you about your experiences with Thoth."

Jonny bit his lip. "I'm sure General Hammond would let you read my report –"

"Your report!" Simmons repeated with a condescending chuckle. "How very grown up."

Jonny's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure General Hammond would let you read my report, assuming you have the right classification level. Since I have no way of knowing what your classification is, I really can't discuss anything."

Simmons pursed his lips. "I quite understand," he said. "So, since I know you're permitted to talk freely about your experiences with the Corporation, I have a few questions about that."

"I'm allowed to talk about it with anyone I want to talk to about it," Jonny said. "I don't want to talk to you about anything."

"I think that's a pretty clear statement." Jonny looked up, immeasurably relieved to see Race framed in the doorway. "Who in the hell are you?"

"This is Colonel Simmons," Jonny said. "You remember, the guy who came to talk to Dad while you were in South America with Jessie and Estella."

"Ahhh," Race said with a smile that reminded Jonny of a shark. "Colonel Simmons, surely you are aware that you can't talk to Jonny without the permission of his guardian."

Simmons rose to his feet, and he looked like he was experiencing a very unpleasant surprise. "You're not supposed to be here." Jonny felt a surge of anger that he controlled with some difficulty. Probably Simmons was one of the ones who'd been making it harder for Race to get clearance.

Race leaned casually against the doorframe. "Then you'd better hurry up to General Hammond's office and let him know that there's an intruder on his base. He may just tell you that he brought me here himself, but you can't know that for sure without asking him."

"Actually, I just have a few harmless questions for Jonny. You can be here when I ask them if you like."

Race raised an eyebrow. "I don't," he said shortly. "Jonny, I think you need to go to your room."

"Yes sir," Jonny said. Simmons had taken his hand off the crutches quite casually when he stood up, so Jonny grabbed them and headed for the door.

"Wait a moment, Jonny," Simmons said, but Race shook his head. Jonny kept going out the door and straight for the elevator. He had a feeling that Simmons was going to get the rough side of Race's tongue. That was usually why Race sent him away like this. He didn't care. Simmons had made him awfully uncomfortable.

He went to his room and turned on the PlayStation. It beat sitting with nothing to do.

* * *

Jack still wasn't sure why he'd been roped into this meeting. It was stuff and nonsense so far as he was concerned. Daniel needed to be here. Jack had no place in a discussion of tribal ritual and how best to make friends with crazy people who thought that looking a stranger in the eye was a deadly insult and whatnot else.

Hammond was eyeing the little stack of pencils he was building with disfavor when heavy footsteps on the spiral stair from the control room made them all look up. Harriman popped into view looking highly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir," he said. "But there's evidently a loud verbal altercation coming from Dr. Jackson's office. I believe it's Colonel Simmons and Mr. Bannon."

"Shit!" Jack growled. He got up. "That's bound to come to blows if somebody doesn't intervene."

"And you think you're the one to intervene?" Daniel asked incredulously. Jack made a face at him and hurried out of the room.

There was no doubting the ferocity of the argument. Jack could hear them down the hall. He glared at a couple of people who were hovering nearby, listening, looking both nervous and fascinated, and they hurried off. He promptly took the place they had vacated.

". . . no business being in charge of that boy!" Simmons said, his tone an insult.

"Oh, and I suppose you think you should look after him?" Race asked.

"As a matter of fact, no," Simmons replied. "His intellect needs to be nurtured, and I hardly think either you or I is the man to do it."

"But you want to take him away from here."

"You know as well as I do that the boy's father wished him to be kept away from the stargate program. Keeping him here is in direct opposition to Dr. Quest's own decision."

"We also both know that Benton didn't want Jonny to be 'guided' by the NID!" Race snarled. "So somehow I don't think you're all that interested in keeping to Benton's wishes."

"With Quest gone, we have the best alternative environment for the boy."

"Dr. Jackson seems to be an excellent alternate mentor to me," Race replied. "I'm certain Benton would approve."

"Perhaps he would, but we can't know that for certain, and the boy needs guidance that Dr. Jackson can't give him."

Jack found himself wondering just what guidance Daniel was unable to provide, but Race anticipated his train of thought. "You just don't want that pacifist influence emphasized."

"Nothing of the kind!" Simmons retorted. "Dr. Jackson was raised in a series of highly unpleasant foster homes, much the way you were. As a result, neither of you is suited to caring for a sensitive boy. Frankly, I don't know what was in Dr. Quest's mind when he made you his son's guardian."

"Dr. Quest's mind would be beyond your capability to understand," Race replied venomously.

"Oh Lord help me!" Simmons said sarcastically. "I think I'm going to be sick. The idolization of men like Benton Quest and Daniel Jackson is nauseating. They're just men, like other men, not the demi-gods you and O'Neill and Hammond make of them."

Jack felt his spine straighten as rage coursed through him. How dared Simmons insult Daniel after all Daniel had done to save this planet, not to mention Simmons' insignificant life!

"Demi-god?" Daniel exclaimed from just behind Jack. "Do you really think I'm a demi-god?"

"Not hardly!" Jack said instantly, his rage leaking out of him a little. He turned to find Daniel looking curiously at him. "You don't even rate avatar."

Daniel snorted. "Demi-gods and avatars occupy much the same level, Jack," he said, then walked around the door into his office. "Colonel Simmons, may I help you?"

Simmons looked a little wild-eyed as Jack turned the corner. His eyes grew even wider, looking over Jack's shoulder. Jack glanced back and saw General Hammond.

"Colonel Simmons," Hammond said. "I believe I asked you to apprise me of any future visits in advance."

"The NID is not required to inform you of its movements," Simmons said resentfully.

"No, I suppose not," Hammond said softly, and Simmons glared at him. "Do you have an appointment with someone here on base?"

"Not precisely, I have some questions for Jonny."

Hammond glanced around the room. "Odd. Jonny doesn't seem to be here."

"No, Bannon sent him to his room when –"

"Then I will have to assume that he had a good reason to do so," Hammond said, nodding at Race. "As the boy's guardian, he must do as he sees fit. Now, seeing as you have no appointment, and Jonny is unavailable, perhaps you would care to accompany me to my office where we can discuss a few unrelated matters?" Simmons seemed to be stymied. He didn't say anything or move for a moment. "Colonel?" Hammond asked, his mild tone the barest gauze over steel.

"Yes, general, of course," Simmons said, and he followed Hammond out of the room.

The three left in Daniel's office were silent until Simmons was out of earshot, then Bannon slammed his fist down on Daniel's desk. "That stupid bastard had Jonny cornered in here when I got here," he said.

"The general will deal with him," Daniel said. "Charming how he was just passing out personal information like it was nothing."

Race nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Look, I'd better go check on Jonny. He looked pretty unhappy when I got in here."

"Mind if we tag along?" Jack asked.

"Not a bit."

He started follow Bannon, but Daniel didn't move. He was staring at the desk. "You coming, Daniel?"

"Jonny's solved it," he said, and both Jack and Race stopped to look at him. "I've been working on this off and on for the last three days, and Jonny just solved it." He blinked, squinting. "At least, I think he . . . it makes . . ."

"Are you coming Daniel?" Jack asked with a little more volume.

"What?" Daniel said, looking up. "Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry." He followed them out. "I just . . . he's so . . . you rarely find someone who's so intuitive about languages."

"He comes by it honestly," Race said. "You should see his father in action."

"I have, some," Daniel said. "He was utterly fascinated by the Goa'uld I showed him, but he didn't want to risk his boys."

"I can understand that," Jack said, reflecting with pain on what he would give to have his own boy back.

They continued the rest of the way to Jonny's room in silence, both the other men seeming to be sensitive to Jack's mood. Race opened the door without knocking, calling, "It's me, sport. How're you feeling?"

"I'm almost done with this level!" Jonny said urgently. Jack hurried up to see which game he was playing and sat down. "This is the fifth time I've tried, and I don't want to screw up again."

"Tomb Raider," Jack said, grinning. "Do you know the fun jumps?"

"Yeah," Jonny said and proceeded to demonstrate a few as he caused the stacked Laura Croft to bounce her way up a series of platforms. When he had completed his level, he sat back and tossed the controller down on the bed. "Did you chase him off?"

"The general took him away," Race said. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Sure," Jonny said. "He's just an obnoxious guy. He doesn't have any power here, right?"

"Not really," Jack said.

Daniel sat on the other side of the bed. "What did he say to you?"

Jonny shrugged. "He asked about Thoth, but I told him I didn't know his clearance level, so I couldn't talk about it."

"Good answer," Race said approvingly.

"He said he came to see me, but why would he do that? I don't really get it."

"Don't worry about it, Jonny," Race replied. "What else did he have to say?"

Jonny sat up straighter. "Don't tell me not to worry about it!" he exclaimed, and Race's eyes widened. "You can't tell me calmly about people trying to blow up the planet and then tell me not to worry about this guy."

Daniel caught Jack's eye with a mildly alarmed expression. Jack pursed his lips and nodded slightly, not sure how they could escape but fairly certain that they ought to.

"All right, Jonny," Race said, and he walked around to sit on the end of the bed, facing Jonny. "Do you remember the time Simmons came and talked to your dad?" Jonny nodded and Jack listened with some worry, recalling Jonny's story about that event. "Do you know why he came?"

"Because he wanted Dad to come work for the stargate program, or NID or whatever."

Race shook his head. "They wanted you to come work for them."

"They did not!" Jonny exclaimed incredulously. "Why would they want me? I mean, I can see that they might use me to get a hold on Dad, but not by asking him for me. That's crazy."  
"I know, sport, but you've got to believe me. They weren't trying to get a hold on your dad. They were trying to get you. They had some school they wanted him to send you to, some special program. Simmons tried to put some pretty heavy pressure on your dad. He was livid when I got home."

"But why me?" Jonny asked. "I'm nothing special."

Race sighed. "Jonny, I wish you'd stop saying that. It's not true, and I think you know it."

"Look at Dad and Hadji. I'm not saying I'm dumb, I know I'm not. But I'm not like them."

"No, you're not," Race said. "You've got an entirely different kind of mind, and the kind of mind you've got is what the NID wants, and they want you young enough that they can shape you."

Jonny blinked, and Jack refrained from nodding. He was pretty sure Bannon was right. It rang true. Daniel had that blank look he got when he was really worried but didn't want to show it. "Don't you think it's a little too late for that?" Jonny suggested.

Race snorted. "Yes. It was too late when you were twelve, but that doesn't mean the NID agrees."

Jack hated to think about it, but there were ways they could still bend Jonny to their will. It might sacrifice a bit of his flexibility, but it could still be possible. Nevertheless, there was no point in terrifying the kid with that kind of thing.

"Besides, how would the NID know what kind of a mind I've got?" Jonny asked. "Dad's never let the results of any tests out of his hands, so where could they have found out?"

"Your dad didn't control all of the tests you were given, Jonny. Remember?"

Jonny opened his mouth but then his eyes went distant and filled up with a terrible pain. "You mean the Corporation, don't you?" he asked, his voice curiously flat. Race nodded. "I thought . . . didn't they kill all the computers?"

"They did, but they didn't take the paper copies with them, or the test itself."

"I didn't know that," Jonny said. He looked up at Race in nascent anger. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me?"

"We didn't know for a long time, sport, and when we did find out, your father didn't want to bring it all up again," Race said frankly. "I'm not even sure Phil knew right away. There was more than one agency in on that rescue, and I didn't know that till later."

"Was the NID in on it?" Jonny asked.

"No, they weren't."

"But, then . . ." Jonny paused. "Were they in on the search for them?"

"Not so far as I know," Race said. "It's kind of outside their arena."

"Then why do they need my test results?" Jonny asked cannily. "Why would they have them?"

Jack felt somewhat out of place in this conversation, but he needed to find out more about what had happened with Simmons. Besides, he and Daniel probably needed to know about all of this too. It was just the intensity of Jonny's emotions that they didn't need to witness.

"I'm not altogether sure how they got them, or why, but the fact is they have them."

"But they can't have said anything all that important," Jonny said. "I'm not –"

"Jonny, stop it," Race said, his voice a little uneven. He leaned forward. "I don't want to alarm you, but they do say something important. Think about it. I know you haven't examined the end of that time real close, but think about it if you can."

Jonny's face went utterly white and blank. "Think about . . . you mean Crandall, when he . . ." Race shook his head. "What do you mean, then?"

"They took you away first, Jonny. There were two reasons for that, we've since learned. One, they were pretty sure that your father wouldn't leave the island without you."

"And two?" Jonny asked in the tone of one who doesn't really want to know the answer.

"If they couldn't keep both of you, they wanted to keep you more," Race said.

The empty terror that abruptly took over Jonny's eyes told Jack that it was time to go and let Race handle things. They could find out about Simmons later. Daniel was already moving. Jack stopped outside the door and pulled it mostly shut. "Go get Fraiser. I want her here if he needs her."

Daniel didn't even speak, he just hurried off, and Jack listened with one ear to the panic attack in the room behind him. It was dreadful. The hoarse sobs from Jonny tore at Jack, but Race spoke to the boy in a low, soothing voice. Jack could tell it was having the desired effect, but only gradually. It had been clear from Jonny's behavior when he'd spoken of his imprisonment by the Corporation that he still had some lingering emotional trauma, but Jack had not been prepared for this. Of course, the reaction was undoubtedly enhanced by the current situation, but . . .

Rage filled him, making him want to find the people who had caused this and strangle them all. There was nothing to be done right now, however, except stand outside this room and ward people off so as to keep some of Jonny's privacy intact. He didn't dare shut the door all the way, though, in case Race needed help.

Finally, Daniel came back with Fraiser. Jack opened the door quietly and looked across the room. Jonny was leaning against Race's chest and Race was stroking his hair, murmuring softly. He looked up at Jack's entry and raised his eyebrows. Jack eased inside and let Fraiser past, and Race nodded. Fraiser headed over to the bed and put her hand on Jonny's back.

"You fellas okay?"

Jonny looked up and nodded weakly. He looked horrible, his eyes red and swollen. "I'm sorry I'm such an idiot," he said, his voice rough from sobbing.

Fraiser sat down and pushed a stray lock of hair out of Jonny's face. "You're not an idiot," she said, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Don't say things like that. It's fine." Jack couldn't see Fraiser's face, but he could see Jonny's, and there was a sudden desperate vulnerability there. He wrapped his arms around her and held on as if for dear life. Fraiser looked startled briefly, but then she put her arms around him and rocked him soothingly. "You'll be okay," she said softly. "You'll be okay."

Race looked stunned. Not upset, just stunned. Jack had a feeling that the mommy figures in Jonny's life had been few and far between since the death of his own mother, and Fraiser was just about perfect for that role. She had mommy written all over her.

Jack turned to Daniel, about to indicate that they should leave, but Daniel had evidently anticipated him. He was holding up a hastily scrawled note that read, "We'll be in my office. Call if you need us." Jack turned back in time to see Race nod with a grateful smile.

This time Jack shut the door firmly behind them, then he followed Daniel back to his office. Daniel walked over to his desk and set to work. Jack contemplated some of the things that Colonel Simmons had said. After a couple of minutes, he said, "So, Daniel, I recall you mentioning foster care, but you somehow managed not to convey the impression that there was anything unpleasant about them."

"You can't believe everything you hear from snakes, Jack," Daniel said with a casual air that belied the sudden whiteness of his knuckles.

"You said he was passing out personal information," Jack observed and though Daniel's lips compressed, he still didn't look up. "You wouldn't have said that if it was a load of crap."

"Jack, do we have to do this now?"

"I just find it a little odd that I find out about my friend's early life not from him but from greedy aliens and snakes like Simmons."

"What do you care about my procession of foster homes, Jack?" Daniel asked, looking up irritably. "Yes, there were a few of them, and no, I wasn't lucky in who I got stuck with. There's no point in hashing it over. It's been more than fifteen years since I left the last one."

"What do I care?" Jack asked incredulously. "Daniel!"

"I mean, what does it matter?" Daniel asked. His expression bore that stamp of obstinacy that Jack had come to know so well. "It's over and done with, end of story."

"Fine," Jack said, and Daniel's shoulders relaxed with relief. Jack raised an eyebrow. "We'll talk later. Right now, I'm going to go check on Carter."

Daniel's eyes widened. "Race will be expecting to find you here."

"And you'll know where I am. It works out that way. Call Carter's lab if you need me."

Daniel shrugged. "Whatever. I've got work to do."

Jack walked out. He had a feeling that Daniel had expected more diligent digging than Jack had done, and that he wasn't altogether sure whether he was glad that Jack had given up or not. Jack headed down to Carter's lab where he found her comparing a diagram in some kind of alien text to a machine she had partially disassembled in front of her.

"How's it going?" he asked, walking over and sitting down on one of the stools by her workbench.

"Fine, sir," she said, looking at him suspiciously. "Is something wrong?"

Jack blinked, realizing that she deserved a Jonny update. "Well, actually, not really. Simmons came on base and cornered Jonny, which seemed to necessitate Bannon telling Jonny something that sent the kid into a severe panic attack. Fraiser's with him now, providing motherly comfort."

Carter's eyes widened. "And I take it that's not why you came?" she asked.

"Nope," Jack said. "Tell me, has Daniel told you anything much about his life after his grandfather abandoned him?"

Carter shook her head. "I kind of hinted around a couple of times to see if he felt like he needed to confide anything, but he never did. I don't think he wants to talk about it."

"Tough," Jack said shortly.

"Sir?" she said. "I don't know . . . pushing him usually makes him clam up tighter."

"Well, if Simmons knows all about it, I think we should," he replied, and Carter stared at him in surprise. "Yeah, he just popped out with more information than me, and I don't think we need to be blindsided."

"Sir, would you want to talk about your –"

"I have, in great and gruesome detail," he said, and she blinked at him. "With Daniel. The little twerp's been holding out on me."

"Sir, it is Daniel's business," Carter said hesitantly. "If he doesn't want to talk about it, then –"

"Tough!" Jack repeated, and Carter broke off, her eyes wide. "Apparently Simmons knows all about it and is attempting to use it to Daniel's detriment. As such, I think it's my responsibility to find out the whole truth of the matter."  
"I'm afraid I agree," General Hammond said, and for the second time Jack turned to find that the general had come up behind him without his being aware of it. "It isn't the only issue that Simmons has elected to bring up, either," he added, looking grimly at them. He shut the door to the lab and walked over to the table. Jack was getting a bit nervous. "Evidently the NID is contemplating putting it to the courts that leaving Jonny in the care of two men who were raised in unpleasant, abusive circumstances and a third who . . ." Hammond paused, his jaw clenching, and Jack abruptly knew what he was about to say.

"Don't say it," he said with sour anger. "Who was careless enough to let his own son shoot himself."

"In a nutshell," Hammond replied. "However, he has no standing at this point. While the boy's guardian was out of reach and his clearance was denied, they had some possibility of forcing the issue, but now they'd have to show that Race is specifically acting in a fashion contrary to Jonny's interests. Nevertheless, I want to know more about Dr. Jackson's background."

"Daniel doesn't want to talk about it, sir," Jack said.

"Encourage him," Hammond said. "The records we have are very rudimentary. I'd like a bit more detail. Simmons implied that he knew something that would cause us to question Dr. Jackson's even being a part of this program."

"Yeah right," Carter said. "What could he possibly know?"

"I want to find that out, and I'd rather find out from Dr. Jackson."

Jack nodded. "I'll go have a chat with him. What do you want me to tell him?"

"I don't . . ." Hammond sighed. "I'd better talk to him myself. Is he in his office?"

"Yes sir."

Hammond nodded and left the room. Jack fiddled about in Carter's lab till she chased him out, then he went to Hammond's office to wait. Knowing Daniel, he would be none too welcoming if Jack approached him after he and Hammond talked. Daniel was sure to think that Jack had sicced Hammond on him. Besides, surely Hammond could be prevailed upon to share whatever knowledge he'd gained with his second in command, who also happened to be Daniel's commanding officer.

He paced back and forth in front of the desk, wishing he was a fly on the wall in Daniel's office. Hammond had been closeted with him for quite awhile. The door opened behind him when he was at the far end of his pacing. Turning, he saw the general entering the room, looking ten years older than he had earlier in the day.

"What?" Jack demanded instantly, alarmed by the evidence of Hammond's dismay.

"Jack, I wasn't expecting to find you here," Hammond said. He walked over and sat down heavily in his chair. "I'm just as glad, though, I couldn't want you to go bother Dr. Jackson right now. Bad enough that Simmons made me drag it all out of him."

"Drag all what out of him, sir?" Jack asked impatiently.

The general didn't respond immediately. He picked up his phone and asked his secretary to bring them some coffee and pastries. When those were on their way, he leaned back in his chair and fixed Jack with an uncertain look. "I'm not really sure how he'd react to my telling you."

"Sir, I have to know."

"I think you do, but I can't tell you." Lt. Rodriguez walked in with a tray of sweet pastries and a carafe of coffee. "Thank you, Rodriguez. Now, please have someone send the same to Dr. Jackson's office." Rodriguez nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Sir, what did he say to you?"  
Hammond shook his head. "I can't break Dr. Jackson's confidence, Jack," he said. "However, I think I'm going to ask him to talk to you. The last thing we need is for Simmons to pop out with something that makes one of the three of you explode all over him."

Jack was finding all of this extremely alarming. "Sir –"

"I can't and I won't, Jack," Hammond said sharply. "Do not ask again."

"I wasn't going to," Jack said, but he had been and they both knew it. "Daniel won't like this."

"I know," Hammond said with a sigh. "But that's the way it is." He pursed his lips briefly then picked up his phone. "Send Major Carter and Teal'c to me please."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

When Jonny realized that he was clinging to Dr. Fraiser, he stiffened with embarrassment and pulled away. His skin felt hot, and before either of the adults could speak, he grabbed his crutches, muttered something barely intelligible about the bathroom and fled.

He couldn't believe he'd done that. He barely knew Dr. Fraiser, and he was fifteen years old. Kids that age just didn't cling to people and weep. Hadji would never do that. What must she think of him? He had to look like a baby.

Lost in these miserable thoughts, he washed his face. When he was done, he looked at his puffy eyes and reddened nose in the mirror. Race had to be mistaken. He was a moron compared to his father and Hadji. And Jessie, too. He was the brawn to their brains. He'd accepted that for years. It couldn't be true.

Still, thinking back on those last days in the Corporation, Jonny couldn't help reflecting that something of what Race said rang true. Even that last encounter with Crandall . . . Jonny shivered. He'd thought the man had just flipped his lid when he said he was willing to kill Jonny's dad, but if the tests really said what Race seemed to think they did, maybe he had actually wanted to keep Jonny more urgently than he wanted to keep his father, in which case . . . Jonny began to shake again, leaning on his crutches. He would have . . . Crandall would have killed his father. "It's over," Jonny told himself helplessly. "It was four years ago, and it's over."

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Jonny, are you okay in there?" Race asked.

"I'm fine," Jonny said, but his voice was none too steady. He turned and opened the door. Both Race and Dr. Fraiser were waiting outside. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to . . ."

Janet came towards him and put her arm around him. "Don't apologize, Jonny," she said. "Come on out and sit down."

Jonny let her guide him back to the bed, and Race got him situated. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Jonny, but –"

Jonny shook his head. "No, it's okay. I mean, I wish you had, but I get why you didn't. I just . . ." He shivered.

"Well, I prescribe some hot chocolate, a warm fuzzy dog and either rest or something fun and distracting." Jonny shrugged and scratched Bandit, who had climbed onto his lap the moment he'd sat down again. Dr. Fraiser cupped Jonny's chin and got him to look up. "And don't feel bad about getting upset. That's perfectly normal. There's nothing wrong with it."

"I think Daniel and Jack had more questions," Jonny said.

"They can wait," the doctor said with a smile. "You take some time off, play a game, read something fun."

"I'll see to it, Dr. Fraiser," Race said.

"Janet," she corrected, and he nodded. "Give me a call if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Jonny watched her go, then looked up at Race. "Why did I do that?" he asked. "Why did I glom all over her like that?"

Race grinned and sat down facing him on the bed. "She's a mom, Jonny. You've had precious little of that since your mother died."

"I guess . . ."

"Did it feel good?"

Jonny nodded, but his mind wasn't on what Race was saying. "But . . . there has to be something wrong with that test, Race. Dad and Hadji are a thousand times smarter than me."

"That's not true, Jonny," Race replied. "I don't know where you got this, but you really undervalue yourself. I mean, you don't get it from your father."

"Race, I know what you're trying to do, and you don't need to try and make me feel better. I don't mind being the dumb one. It was easier once I accepted that I couldn't compete with –"

"You are not 'the dumb one'!" Race exclaimed almost angrily, and Jonny stared up at him in shock. "Who the hell ever told you that?"

"No one had to tell me," Jonny said, shifting uncomfortably and looking away. "It's obvious."

Race stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know what I can say to convince, you, but you can take my word for this, other people know that you're as smart as your father and your brother."

Jonny hunched. "Anyway, why don't we play chess or something?"

Race stopped trying to persuade him and got the chess board. They played a couple of games, and Jonny sighed. "What is it, Jonny?" Race asked.

Jonny looked up at him. "No offense, Race, but I want Dad."

Race reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "No offense taken, sport. I want your dad, too."

* * *

Jack had to bite his lip to keep silent while he waited for the others to come, and he began to wonder if they'd gone to another state. When they arrived, it was clear from the looks on their faces that Carter had gotten the opportunity to fill Teal'c in on what little she knew. They came inside and Hammond gestured them to the remaining chair. Everyone present knew that Teal'c would rather stand. Carter took the chair and they all waited nervously for what the general had to say.

"Colonel Simmons is making attempts to unseat anyone who would make any attempt at looking after Jonny. He was so thrown by finding Bannon here today that he let some things slip that I suspect he would not have otherwise. Some of the things he had planned concern matters we all know about with regard to Colonel O'Neill." Jack nodded grimly as Carter and Teal'c both looked at him. "Some of them concern matters we have not been privy to, concerning Dr. Jackson. I have learned more details about that today, but I believe that he needs to speak to all of you so that you will all be aware of what Simmons might insinuate in advance."

Teal'c nodded, his face a cool mask of indifference that hid his emotions imperfectly from three who had known him for five years now. Carter leaned forward. "Why would he do this, sir? What's the point?"

"At this point, he is very unlikely to achieve his objective, but Dr. Jackson has been the author of his failure to a large degree. While he could claim that Mr. Bannon was making only token efforts to reach Jonny, he might have been able to make claims regarding the unsuitability of any number of people at Stargate Command and have put enough doubt into a judge's mind to succeed. Now, with Bannon here, that's not at all likely to work, but I guarantee you, he will find out that it was Dr. Jackson who set that in motion, and it will make him very angry."

"And angry people do dumb things, sometimes," Jack said, grimacing.

"They do, indeed. And I don't want his case being bolstered by one of you attacking him, so you need to be prepared. I will not break Dr. Jackson's confidence, but I'm going to have him speak to you about it because you need to know."

"I would prefer to deal with Colonel Simmons directly and render this action unnecessary," Teal'c said in his most solemn voice.

"Teal'c, we can't do that," Hammond said heavily. "It's against our laws."

"I am aware of that, General Hammond," Teal'c said seriously. "I was merely stating my preference."

"Well, thank you for stating a preference which you have no intention of carrying out," Hammond said sharply.

"Indeed," Teal'c said when Hammond paused, waiting for an answer.

"Now, does anyone else have anything stupid to say?" Hammond demanded. Teal'c's body seemed to swell with offense, but Hammond just gave him an irritated look.

The door opened and Daniel walked in. "Sir, I –" He stopped abruptly, staring at them. "Teal'c, what's . . ." Daniel paused and looked at Jack, his lips compressing. "Teal'c, deflate before you explode." The Jaffa looked highly affronted by this casual comment, but Daniel turned back towards the general as if he hadn't noticed. "General, I . . . you didn't . . . did you?"

"Of course not, son," Hammond said. "I would not betray your confidence. However, I was going to ask you to tell them what you told me."

"Why?" Daniel demanded, looking upset.

"Just imagine what would happen if Simmons let something like that drop, the way he might put it, in front of one of them unprepared." Daniel blinked, looking at something that none of the rest of them could see. "Son?"  
"I'm imagining," Daniel said. "I like it."

"Fine, then imagine the courts martial that would follow."

"I could not be court martialed," Teal'c pointed out.

"That's enough, all of you," Hammond said in clear exasperation. "Dr. Jackson, you must see why I want you to speak to them."

Daniel nodded. "Now?" he asked.

"No, actually, I thought I'd ask you to do it tomorrow," Hammond replied.

Jack watched Daniel's eyes widen. The archeologist shook his head. "No, now will be fine." Hammond knit his brows, and Daniel elucidated. "I'd like to sleep tonight."

"If you're certain," Hammond said.

With an unhappy grimace, Daniel shrugged. "I don't want to do it at all, but if it has to happen, I don't want to put it off." He looked around, seeming discontent with the environment. "Maybe we should go in the conference room if we're going to have a briefing."

"Daniel," Sam said worriedly. "It's not . . . I don't . . ." She faltered to a stop, looking at Daniel's face. Jack could tell that his friend really wanted to give this experience the little bit of distance that treating it like a briefing would give it. Apparently Hammond picked up on it, too.

"I think that's an excellent notion," Hammond said, rising. Carter still looked uneasy, but she got up with the rest of them and headed into the briefing room.

* * *

Daniel walked up to the front of the briefing room, gazing at the screen that would ordinarily show the images of a planet, a scientific theory, any number of things. Now it should display the picture of an eight-year-old boy, orphaned, then abandoned by his only near relative. A boy Daniel had left behind as best he could.

When he turned around, they'd sat in their accustomed places, Hammond just to one side so as not to have his back to the presentation, just as if Daniel was going to produce slides or photographs of the child he'd been. "You all know that my parents died when I was eight, and that Nick refused custody of me. What I never really went into detail about is what happened afterwards."

"I assumed you were taken in by friends of your parents," Teal'c said. "Is this not what happened?"

Daniel snorted. "All my parents' friends were working archeologists. In the absence of a specific will giving my guardianship to one of them, the courts were not willing to hand over a young child to people without fixed addresses."

"But if that is how your parents lived, why would these courts object?"

Daniel shrugged. "It hardly matters. None of my parents' friends was determined enough to have me to push for it. When social services said no, they just went about their business." He looked down at his hands and shrugged again. "I can't blame them, honestly. There's an amazing amount of work involved in raising a child, and most of them were either younger or older, and I would have been a burden to them." Teal'c looked distinctly perturbed by this, but to Daniel's relief, he didn't say anything else. "That left me a ward of the court in the state of New York, where my parents died."

"Why New York?" Sam asked.

"We didn't have a home in the States, and neither did Nick. I was essentially abandoned in New York City, so I wound up in the foster care system there. It was a bit overwhelmed and underfunded, like you'd expect, and I was one of thousands of kids with nowhere to go. Most of them were unhappy, had some kind of trauma or abuse in their backgrounds, a lot of them were angry, and I was this scrawny, brainy kid with glasses who spoke Arabic as fluently as I spoke English and code switched a lot."

Jack raised a hand, and Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Code switched?" the colonel asked.

"It's when you don't notice that you . . . when you speak . . ." Daniel trailed off, trying to find a definition that was simple, to the point, and that Jack would understand. He felt a little thrown. For some reason, he hadn't been prepared to have to answer questions like that one during this particular lecture.

"It means he used both languages interchangeably without noticing," Teal'c said solemnly. Jack looked at the Jaffa like he was nuts. "DanielJackson explained it to me when I first came here."

Daniel looked at Jack to see if he got it now, and Jack nodded. "I also had a tendency to lecture about things I knew about, which did not endear me to my peers. I had no experience with American children. The few times we'd been in the States, I'd spent most of my time with adults, who were mostly amused by the little kid lecturing at them."

"I remember how that felt," Sam said. "My father's friends would act like every word I said was the most fascinating thing. It wore off when I got to be about thirteen."

Jack let out an irritated sound, and they all looked at him. "Carter, tell me you weren't talking about astrophysics when you were thirteen. Or ten. Or whatever!"

"Um . . ." Sam said uncertainly.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Jack muttered.

"Please go on, Dr. Jackson," Hammond said with a quelling glare at Jack.

Daniel was actually kind of grateful to his friend. By making this feel even more like a normal briefing, he was making it marginally easier. "So needless to say, I was not popular with the other kids." No one spoke. Daniel cleared his throat. "After two years of going from foster home to foster home, I wound up in a group home. There were eight or nine kids, plus the family's own kids, ranging in age from about three to fifteen or sixteen. I was ten, and it was the typical situation, I really didn't fit in. But there was one kid, Alex, he was thirteen and he was nice to me. We made friends. We were the only ones there who were actually orphans and had nowhere else to go."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jack said.

Daniel put his hands on the head chair and looked down at the white knuckles. "Alex was raised in an extremely abusive household. He was orphaned when his mother killed his father then herself, battered woman syndrome. He . . ." Daniel shook his head. "I didn't understand. The first couple of times he hit me, I thought it was just kidding around. Other kids hit each other. I thought it was normal."

Sam's eyes widened and Jack gaped at him. Teal'c blinked, seeming a bit puzzled. Daniel realized that he was probably trying to remember what battered woman syndrome was, or make sense of what was upsetting the others.

"It got worse, and I didn't like it, but I wasn't going to be a wimp or a baby and tell on him." Daniel shrugged. "Besides, he was my only friend, and I didn't want to get him in trouble. When he had a good day, things were great. When he had a bad day, I walked into doors and tripped over cracks in the sidewalk."

"Daniel . . ." Sam said, her voice full of sympathy.

Daniel shook his head sharply and she stopped. He took a deep breath. "He really was a good kid," he said. "We were friends, and he did care about me. He just didn't know how else to behave, and he was . . ." Daniel snorted wryly. "He was always sorry, and he never meant it." He held up a hand. "And I know I sound like a classic abuse victim, but there is a difference between a child and an adult who knows better. Alex was thirteen and he'd had no healthy role models at that age." Jack and Sam nodded, and Daniel felt a little better about continuing. "Anyway, it wasn't till he broke my arm that anyone thought there was anything going on besides kids roughhousing, and even then it took a six-year-old telling her teacher that Alex had hurt me."

Daniel saw Jack look over at Hammond assessingly, then purse his lips. Hammond was still giving his whole attention to Daniel. Taking another deep breath, Daniel sat down. "Naturally enough, when social services showed up, the Genesees were indignant. They would never permit abuse in their house, but there was enough evidence from the other kids and the injuries they admitted I'd sustained to persuade them of the truth. They took us to different homes after that."

"I would hope so," Sam said. "I hope that kid got some counseling."

"We both did," Daniel said, nodding. "Not that it took much with me, I have to confess. I . . . I was none too good at trusting adults. I could see through them too readily."

"I can believe that," Jack replied. "So you were abused by another kid. What's the –"

"That's not the end of the story, Jack," Daniel said, and Jack broke off abruptly. "I wish it was, but it's not."

"I do not understand, DanielJackson. Are you saying that this child harmed you deliberately?" Teal'c asked.

Daniel shook his head. "Not deliberately. He . . . he was following the example his own father had set for him. When the person you care about makes you mad, you hit them. He didn't know any better, and for him, it was a way of . . . it's hard to explain."

"You do not blame him, even though he hurt you," Teal'c asked.

"Right." Daniel shrugged. "He was a good kid. I hope he got the help he needed."

"So, if that's not the end, what comes next?" Jack asked.

Daniel breathed deeply. "I went to Mrs. Packer's house. There were three of us, and she was the sort that paid no attention. She gave us chores and expected us to do them, but that was really all she cared about unless someone from social services got worried about our grades or something. She was pleased enough with me because I never caused that kind of problem for her, but still, she mostly ignored us."

"Charming lady," Sam remarked.

Daniel shrugged. "There are worse things," he said. "We walked to school, and I was in junior high. The other kids were in lower grades, so they went the opposite direction. I went past a house with a very friendly golden retriever. I pet him every day on my way to and from school, and the man who owned him noticed. He came out and started talking to me, and he seemed very interested in . . ." Daniel shuddered, remembering how easily he had been taken in. He didn't look up. He didn't want to see their expressions when they realized what he was talking about. "He asked me to come help him with his dog, and I didn't see any harm in that. I went to his house on a Saturday morning, after cartoons, and . . . and we played with the dog for awhile. I threw balls, and we gave him a bath, and I got soaked."

"Oh God, Daniel," Sam breathed.

Daniel still didn't look up. "I said I'd better go home, but he said he could just dry my clothes . . ." He lowered his head still further. "I was so . . . I liked him. I thought he was nice, but . . . it began to seem like a pattern. I loved my parents, and they left me. I loved Nick, and he left me. I loved Alex, but he hurt me, and then he left. I was lonely, and I got to liking this guy and . . ." He grimaced. "I went home and I told Mrs. Packer, and there was a lot of fuss. I had to testify and he went to prison, and they moved me again."

Daniel looked up finally. Jack looked devastated, Sam horrified, but Teal'c's brows were knit. "I do not understand," he said. "What did he do?"  
Daniel blinked, and he saw the other two looking even more upset. He took a deep breath. "You've heard of child molestation, haven't you?" he asked. Jack flinched.

"I have, on Oprah," Teal'c said.

"That's what he did," Daniel replied. "Details are hardly –"

The table was abruptly shoved sideways as Teal'c surged to his feet. "Where is this man, that I might deal with him?" he demanded.

"He's dead," Daniel said, staring at Teal'c in surprise. "Died in prison, a heart attack."

"Such things should not be permitted," he growled.

"Well, duh!" Jack exclaimed, and Teal'c turned to him with his eyes wide. "You think we let it happen on purpose? If I had my way, they'd be shot on sight, but this isn't the United States of Jack O'Neill." Teal'c, looking disgruntled, sat back down.

"So, the next two years were pretty miserable. I had to go to counseling, which I hated. I had gotten a reputation as a troublesome kid, so the adults got less friendly, and I was younger than all my classmates, who mostly thought I was an annoying know-it-all. I couldn't get close to anyone, I couldn't bring myself to trust anyone. I was very lonely, and then, just as I turned twelve, I was moved again, so I entered high school knowing no one."

"Twelve?" Jack asked. "I knew you were young, but twelve?"

Daniel nodded. "It wasn't easy. The other kids were all taller and bigger and they thought I was a pain to have around, not to mention the fact that I screwed up the curve. Then one kid, a junior in my history class, started paying me a lot of attention. I didn't trust him for a long time, but he was persistent and got past my barriers. I thought we were friends, and I started 'helping' him with his work. Then I heard him laughing at me with his friends and talking about how I was a great ticket to good grades."

"Oh, Daniel," Sam said, her voice full of sympathy. "I know how that feels."

Daniel shook his head. "You had a father who loved you, and a brother. I was alone. I had no one. Everyone I'd ever cared about had betrayed me, even my parents by dying without leaving me properly provided for." He shook his head. "I left school, went home and took a knife from the kitchen –"

"Daniel, you didn't!" Jack exclaimed.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "I did, but at least I didn't try to take out a few thousand other people with a nuclear bomb while I was at it." Sam and Hammond looked shocked and utterly horrified at the reference, and Teal'c's eyebrows rose.

Jack froze and stared at him. "You do have a point," he said after a moment. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"No, I don't think so," Daniel replied. "Especially since one of the other people was me."

"You shouldn't have been there," Jack pointed out. "If you hadn't lied about what you could do, you wouldn't have been there."

The calm way the two of them were talking about the event seemed to reassure Hammond. Daniel opened his mouth to refute Jack's words, but the general interrupted. "I believe that we are straying from the point a bit."

Daniel grimaced. "Umm . . . yeah. Well, I took the knife and went to my room." The others were silent and Daniel shrugged. "I did it wrong, which is probably what saved me. Mrs. Chesney came home from work and found me . . . and they admitted me to the psych ward for a few days, which is probably what Simmons has in mind."

"So your society drove you to make an attempt to take your own life, then wishes to penalize you for it?" Teal'c demanded.

"That's about the shape of it," Jack said. "Daniel, why didn't you ever say anything?"

Daniel's lips tightened. "Because it was all a long time ago, over and done with."

Jack shook his head. "But – there are – I would have –"

Daniel could see where he was heading and cut him off. "It shouldn't make any difference."

"But it does, Daniel," Jack protested. "Can you honestly tell me that you don't edit your words on occasion because of Charlie? Can you tell me that you don't get annoyed by people who fail to?"

"That's different!" Daniel said.

"How is it different, Daniel?" Jack exclaimed. "Pain is pain."

"It's not the same!" Daniel glared at him.

"How? In what way is it not the same?"

"Jack, why are you –"

Jack stood up abruptly. "Damn it, Daniel, there are things I would never have said if I'd known!"

"Why should it make a difference?" Daniel demanded. "Why would you say different things to me because you know I attempted suicide?"

"Because you don't yank friendship away from someone whose been smashed time and time again in exactly that way!" Jack growled. "For the same reason you don't come and tell me what a dreadful thing it is that people leave their guns around where children can find them!"

Daniel surged to his feet and turned around. Jack's words had slammed into him, breaking loose some emotions that he'd thought were long since settled.

He heard footsteps on the spiral stair and Sgt. Harriman spoke. "General I need to – come back later." The footsteps retreated down the spiral staircase.

Hands came down on Daniel's shoulders. "Daniel, I . . . I don't . . ."

Daniel shook his head. His throat felt tightly constricted. "I don't want people to make allowances," he forced out. "I don't need people to tread on glass around me."

"That's not what I'm suggesting, Daniel," Jack said. "But there's no need to wall yourself off like this."

"I think we've strayed again," Daniel said, pulling gently away from Jack and turning back. "The point of this briefing is to make you aware of what weapons Colonel Simmons might have. Now you know. I'm done. I've got work to do." He turned to leave, but Jack's voice brought him to a halt.

"Daniel!"

Daniel turned. "What?"

"You can't just dump this on us and then leave," Jack said.

"Why not?" Daniel demanded.

Jack mouthed wordlessly at him for a moment, then said, "Carter, you tell him."

Put on the spot, Sam gave Jack a quick glare but she said, "Daniel, are you okay?"

"It was twenty years ago, Sam," Daniel pointed out.

"Yeah, and my mother died about that long ago and I'm still not over it."

"That's different."

"How?" she asked, sounding startled. Daniel opened his mouth but found nothing to say.

"Yeah, Daniel, why is it that everyone else's pain matters but yours doesn't?" Jack shook his head. "That's not how it works."

"Again, we're departing from the point," Daniel said. "Do you guys have questions? Points of clarification? A need to know the gory details?"

"Daniel," Jack said. "That's not fair."

"Jack, I don't want to analyze my feelings, I want to stop thinking about them!" Daniel said. "I want to stop remembering what it felt like to cut into my arms and lie there, waiting to die." He tugged down on the sleeves of his jacket even though he knew the scars had faded so far as to hide among the natural lines of his wrists. "Why should I have to dwell on all of it just because that bastard wants to get a handle on Jonny?"

Sam cleared her throat. "You shouldn't," she said, her voice gentle. "But are you going to be able to avoid it?"

"I don't know," Daniel said. "But I don't want to deal with it now. I want to get some work done and think about something else."

"Go, Dr. Jackson," Hammond said. "Call me if you need me."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Daniel nodded gratefully at the general and left. Jack started to follow him, but Hammond called him back. "Leave him be, colonel."

"I can't believe . . . what I said to him . . . it was bad enough before, but knowing this now . . ."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," Hammond said. "Nothing can change what happened. I'm not exactly thrilled about my part in that affair knowing what I know now, but the fact is that's our problem, not his."

"Right," Jack said sourly. Hammond was right, however little he liked it. He returned to his seat and they all sat silently, looking not at each other but at the walls and the table. Jack writhed internally, remembering the moment when, knowingly, consciously, deliberately, he'd yanked the ground out from under Daniel's feet.

After several minutes of complete silence, Teal'c said, "If Colonel Simmons were to make negative remarks about DanielJackson in my presence, I do not know that I could control my reaction." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "In fact I am certain that I would not wish to."

"Then you had better avoid him," Hammond said. "Though I doubt he'd approach you with anything."

"If he has any sense, he won't say anything to the three of us," Sam said.

"My concern is that he will say something to someone else with one of you present, but I think he has a sufficiently healthy respect for Teal'c's abilities, and a sufficiently exaggerated notion of his temper that he will probably avoid him." From the way Carter's nostrils flared, Jack could see that Hammond's words were only making her mood worse. The general rose. "Well, I have a meeting in half an hour, so I had better be going."

They all stood up and went out of the conference room. Teal'c nodded at them and headed towards the gym. Jack began to wonder where Carter was going because she stayed with him all the way as he headed back to his office. When they reached the hallway that led to his office, he glanced over at her. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you," she said soberly, and he led her into the office and held the door for her.

"Do I need to shut it?" he asked, and she nodded. Jack walked over to his desk chair, but she was standing so stiffly that he was a little uncomfortable sitting down. "Carter, you want to –"

"What exactly _did_ you say to him?" she asked abruptly.

If she'd turned around and punched him in the gut he couldn't have been more surprised. He took in a deep breath and took refuge in flippancy. "Carter, I thought I taught you better. When you jab a knife into someone, you're supposed to twist."

"Sir, this is hardly a moment for humor."

He swallowed his retort and searched for words. "Sit down," he said finally.

"Sir . . ."

"Sit down, Carter. Please."

She sat and that allowed him to sink into his chair. The very nature of her question made the situation feel enormously formal, and his early training had kicked in. He looked down at the top of the desk. "I'm sorry, sir, I know this can't be easy, but . . ."

"No, Carter, I understand that you want to know. I can even see that you really should know, but you can't expect me to view talking about it with pleasure." He regarded his hands unhappily. "It . . . it was bad enough before."

"Yeah, you said that earlier."

Jack bit his lip. "Well, you know, he came to the house. I don't know exactly what the three of you had in mind, but he –"

"Sir, I . . ." She looked vaguely embarrassed. "At that moment, I would have agreed with anything Daniel said, but we didn't . . . he went to see you on his own. That was just a . . . a payback, I guess." Jack let out a huffing sort of mirthless laugh. That was so like Daniel. "All we knew was that he came back to work the next day feeling about as warm as an iceberg. We didn't even know he'd seen you till later."

Jack sighed. That just made it worse, and Jack found himself wondering if Daniel realized that. "I . . . I knew the house was monitored. I saw Daniel and I knew I had to find a way to get him to leave, but Daniel knows me too well. Like he said, he sees through people too readily for comfort. He was thinking aloud, working his way through it, and I had to stop him. I had to shut him up before he talked us both into trouble."

"But what did you say?" Carter asked. "It's clear that it wasn't some vague pushing away, not after the way you two were acting just now."

Jack shook his head. "No, it wasn't vague. He was trying to come up with an explanation for my apparent descent into insanity. I had to convince him that I genuinely believed in what I had done, what I was doing." He scrubbed his hands in his hair. "I told him that the Pentagon wasn't serious about our goals, which were to attain technology whatever the costs. He said there were other things we could gain from people like the Tollans, and I . . ." He bit his lip. "I said that was stuff that interested people like him, not people like me."

"Oh."

"And then I told him that if people didn't want to share, we should just take." Jack looked away. "He didn't believe me, and said that if I really thought that, then he'd never really known me."

"How could you possibly convince him of that?" Carter asked. "He knows you far too well to buy that, I'd think."

"I metaphorically slammed him off his feet and didn't let him get up again," Jack said. "I . . ." He closed his eyes. "I casually insinuated that he was smart enough that he should have seen this tendency in my thinking. He didn't say anything, but he looked just enough off balance for me to . . ." He paused again. "I said, 'I guess you couldn't relate to me any more than I could to you.' He looked like I'd smashed him in the face."

"Is that what you were –"

Jack shook his head and she broke off. "No, it gets way worse than that. He asked about the friendship we'd been developing over the past several years . . . he let it trail off and I finished it for him. I said, 'Apparently not much of a foundation, there.'"

"God . . ." Carter breathed.

"He just left. He didn't say anything else, he just left. I had no idea what a sucker punch I'd given him. I knew it hurt, I knew it got him past the dangerous thinking, but I didn't know . . ."

"He's not twelve anymore, sir," Carter said, and Jack's eyes focused on her face. "He's not a troubled and lonely adolescent without any support."

"No, he's a terribly private and lonely man with very little support," Jack replied. "He'd just lost his wife, he'd spent months helping you try to get me back, and within weeks I betrayed everything the four of us have worked for, then told him that the whole friendship he'd built with me was based on a critical misunderstanding of my character."

Her shoulders slumped. "He didn't say anything about it. Not a word."

"Of course not. I was his closest friend, and if he'd been so completely mistaken in me, how could he trust you or Teal'c?" He shook his head. "I had no idea he'd ever . . . if I'd known, I would have found another way to handle things, I might have insisted that we tell him, regardless of what the Tollans and the Asgard wanted, I don't know. I would not have taken my friendship away so harshly."

"No wonder you babbled like a nut case when you came back."

"And no wonder Daniel felt the need to get a bit of his own back. I just wish . . . I wish I'd known. I wouldn't have . . . I hated doing it then, but now I wish I could take it back."

Carter shook her head and sighed. "I wish you could, too. But at least now I know where the land mines are."

"Yeah," Jack said.

"Have you and Daniel ever really talked about it, sir?"

"You heard us," Jack replied.

"That's all?" she exclaimed.

"You try bringing up emotion-laden crap with Daniel," Jack said. "Not to mention that I suck at talking about it myself. He doesn't want to hear it."

Carter was silent for a moment, then she sighed. "Just because he doesn't want to hear it doesn't mean it shouldn't be said." With that cheerful observation, she took herself off, leaving Jack alone with his unpleasant thoughts.

* * *

Jonny awoke muzzily from a very deep sleep. He felt leaden and soggy-brained, but he struggled upright. Race helped him get the cover on his cast so that he could shower. The hot water and steam revived him somewhat, and he felt almost human by the time he got out.

Race was straightening the bedroom when Jonny came out in his bathrobe. He seemed almost suspiciously chipper. "Up half the night?" Jonny asked and Race looked up.

"Just the last few hours," he said with an easy grin. "You know me, if I wake up past four, I don't easily go back to sleep. I'll nap later."

Jonny pulled his clothes out of the dresser and sat down on the bed. "So, what woke you?" he asked.

Race got that 'little white lie' look on his face and opened his mouth. "Well –"

Jonny broke in. "If it was me, just say it was," he said irritably.

The grin compressed. "Why? So you can beat yourself up over it?" Race asked sourly.

"Well, I can tell when you're not telling the truth, so lying to save my feelings doesn't work too well." Race grimaced and sighed, acknowledging the truth of that. Jonny shook his head. "Another nightmare?"

"You don't remember?" Race asked, sitting down and helping Jonny with his shoe. "I know you didn't wake up, but I thought you'd probably remember the dream."

Jonny shook his head. "So far as I can tell, I didn't dream. I feel like I slept too heavy."

"You certainly had enough of an adrenaline rush yesterday," Race remarked, and Jonny lowered his head, flushing at the memory. "How are you feeling about that today?"

Jonny shrugged. "Pretty stupid."

"That's not what I meant, sport."

Jonny made a face. "I'm a little freaked," he said with a bit more candor. "But I'll live. I want to get back to work."

"Homework," Race said gently, and Jonny grimaced. "As it happens, though, you were right. Dr. Jackson called. Colonel O'Neill has a few more questions about yesterday, so we have a meeting in about an hour." He glanced at the clock. "Breakfast should be here in five minutes."

"Are we going back to Daniel's office for me to do my homework?" Jonny asked.

"If you can keep from helping him out until you finish," Race replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jonny stared at him, open-mouthed. "How'd you –"

"If you want to keep your extracurricular activities a secret, you should probably not write anything down."

Jonny rolled his eyes. "If I hadn't written it down, it would have defeated the purpose," he said.

"True." Race tousled his hair. "You're a good kid, Jonny. You know I love you, right?" Jonny blinked and nodded. Race looked down at the cast. "So, does it itch?"

"Don't ask!" Jonny said in a strangled voice as the question brought the annoying sensation back to the forefront of his mind. "It's enough to drive me crazy."

"Sorry!" Race said contritely. "I won't mention it again."

They ate breakfast, and then Jonny threw a ball for Bandit and fought with him for it until Race said it was time to go.

"So, do you miss your independence?" Race asked.

"What independence?" Jonny asked, confused. "If you mean do I miss being able to go outside anytime I want to, yes, I miss that."

"No, I knew you'd miss that. I mean, I know you missed me, and I know you're glad I'm here, but is there some part of you that enjoyed being on your own?"

Jonny shook his head. "Not right now," he said. "I might have if the situation was less serious, but with Dad and Hadji where they are and the NID after me . . ." He shuddered. "Besides, I really wasn't on my own. Jack and Daniel wouldn't leave me alone for five minutes together."

"Probably wise under the circumstances," Race said.

"I felt pretty hemmed in, actually," Jonny said. "I know there were moments when being alone would have been bad, but I'm not used to having my time that closely monitored."

"I know, but they had to have been worried about you. They seem to have done a pretty good job of looking out for you."

Jonny nodded as the got into the elevator. "They like me, and they don't expect kids to all act the same. I get so tired of grown ups who think there's something wrong with me because I like to work and don't sleep in as late as the adults around me will let me. None of them tells me that I'll be bored and to run along and play a game."

"I have a feeling that Dr. Jackson and Major Carter know exactly how frustrating that is," Race said, sounding amused. The elevator door opened and Bandit went trotting out the door and turned immediately towards Daniel's office. "I see he knows his way around," Race observed. As the little dog reached the door ahead of them and went in.

Jonny laughed. "He has a food bowl in there, and Dr. Jackson gives him treats."

Jack and Daniel were both already in Daniel's office. Daniel was on one knee, petting Bandit, and Jack had his arms crossed, watching. Jonny thought they both looked awful, like they hadn't slept or something. He glanced up at Race to see if he was worried, but he didn't seem to be.

"Good morning," Jack said with a grin. "How are you feeling?"

Jonny grinned right back. "Great!" Race gave him a look, and Jonny shrugged. "Okay." He went over to his chair and sat down, maneuvering his leg into place. "I slept really deep."

"I'm not surprised," Daniel said, getting to his feet. Bandit trotted over to Jonny and jumped up on his lap. "I'm glad you slept, though."

"Race said you had questions about what happened yesterday."

"Yes," Jack said "Tell us exactly what happened."

Jonny took a deep breath and told them, repeating what Simmons had said as exactly as possible. When he was done, Race's fists were clenched, and he was scowling, but Colonel O'Neill was actually smiling. "And that's it," Jonny said. "Race came and told me to go to my room."

"You said he had his hand on your crutches?" Jack asked.

"He took it off when Race showed up," Jonny said.

Jack exchanged an odd look with Daniel. "When exactly did he take hold of them again?"

"When I said I thought I should go." Jack nodded, looking satisfied. "He reached out and rested his hand on them and told me not to be in a hurry."

"I think we've got him," Daniel said. "Undue restraint, and he's a minor."

"Without so much as a babysitter present."

"What do you mean you've got him?" Race asked.

"I mean that we can get him pulled off this case," Jack said. "Maybe even disciplinary action. I've got to go report to Hammond." Jack walked over and tousled Jonny's hair. "I'm really sorry we didn't head him off."

"It wasn't that big a deal," Jonny said, a little surprised. He glanced around at all the adults, and they all seemed more serious than he would have expected. "What's going on?"

"I'm afraid Simmons' little games have affected us grown ups more than they did you, Jonny," Race said with a shrug. "If you don't mind, I'll leave you to get started on your homework and go talk to the general with Colonel O'Neill."

"Did he say or do something after I left?" Jonny asked, not at all reassured by Race's light tone.

"A few things," Jack said. "But I think we'll be able to pull his teeth fairly effectively with what you just told us."

Jonny shrugged. "I'm not sure what the point is. They'll just send someone new."

Jack grinned even more broadly. "Yes, but if they keep having to send someone new, they'll eventually run out of someones."

"There's an awful lot of someones," Jonny said.

Jack spread his arms, indicating both Race and Daniel. "Jonny, are you doubting our ingenuity?"

"No," Jonny said, but he kept to himself the thought that came to him. Sometimes the someones stopped because they succeeded. He might trust in Race's ingenuity, and SG-1's, but he didn't discount the ingenuity of men like Simmons either.

* * *

Jack wondered what Race wanted to talk to the general about, then it occurred to him that he might just want to be present for any discussion that regarded Jonny's welfare. They got into the elevator with several others, and Jack noticed that the SGC staff were gazing curiously at the stranger who was not in fatigues. Race seemed entirely unaware of the scrutiny, but Jack doubted he was.

Rodriguez ushered them into the general's office, but the general was in the briefing room with SG-3, preparing them for their next mission. They took seats and sat quietly for a few moments.

"So, how are you settling in?" Jack asked.

"Well enough," Race replied. "Thank you, by the way. You and Dr. Jackson took very good care of Jonny, and I appreciate it."

"He's a good kid," Jack said. "Though I did have to keep reminding people that he's a kid. He's got a very grown up way about him." Race nodded with an amused grin. "And of course, as hard and as often as I tried to remind everyone that he is a kid and deserves some time to goof around, Daniel reminded me that he isn't the kind of kid who won't enjoy working, and that he doesn't need too much time to brood." He snorted. "Between us, we seemed to manage okay."

Race nodded and sat back. They didn't say anything for several minutes, then Race cleared his throat. "So, you and Dr. Jackson both look kind of like you didn't get much rest. Was there any kind of a crisis last night?"

Jack quelled his own dismay and shook his head. "Nothing." He hadn't expected to be questioned about Daniel's obvious lack of sleep, or his own.

"You sure?" Race asked, leaning closer.

"Nothing, really," Jack said. Race raised an eyebrow and Jack amended the obvious falsehood. "Nothing to do with Jonny."

"Something to do with Simmons, though?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, though more to do with keeping us from killing him next time we see him. I'm hoping to avoid that whole possibility with what we're here to tell Hammond."

"Did he do anything else, something I don't know about?"

Jack shook his head. "Just an extension of what you already know. He told the general more of what he has against the group of us. Or at least what he has against Daniel and I." Jack blinked thoughtfully. "I don't know if he said anything about you."

"Not much to say about me. My parents died in a nasty car accident, my uncle was an abusive man, I survived it, end of story."

Jack stared at the calm face of the man in front of him. "I swear to God, I think I'm the only emotionally healthy man on the planet. What did I do to get surrounded by stoics?"

"Are you surrounded by stoics?" Race asked. "I'm not stoic, I've dealt with this."

"Have you?" Race nodded. "Then why did you put it like that? 'End of story'?" Jack shook his head. "Not dealt with by a long shot, I'd say."

"You don't know me," Race exclaimed.

"I know a Jonny who knows you," Jack said. "Besides, I know someone . . . else . . . who says the same kind of thing all the time."

"Would that be Daniel Jackson?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "That would be private."

Race opened his mouth and his eyes widened. After a second, he said, "Of course. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even have asked."

"No, you certainly shouldn't have," Jack replied, then he gave Race a mischievous look. "Swabby."

Race straightened his back. "Flyboy!" he replied in tones of mock affront.

"You got that right," Jack said.

"Seals are the best."

Jack had run into that particular attitude before, and he responded now as he had then. He began to do his best imitation of a seal's bark. Race stared at him in astonishment for a second, then held out his arms straight and began to clap them together. At that moment, the door opened from the briefing room and Hammond said, "Glad as I am to see you two gentlemen bonding, I think your behavior might be a little distracting to my meeting."

Jack whirled around and saw that the briefing room was empty. "What meeting?" he demanded, turning back to Hammond.

The general's eyes were twinkling. "Now, gentlemen, how can I help you?"

"We have more information about Jonny's encounter with Colonel Simmons, sir," Jack said. "Apparently he was constrained to stay and listen to him."

"Constrained?" Hammond repeated. "In what sense?"

"In the sense that Jonny's a polite boy and unless pressed a lot harder, he would do his best to behave appropriately," Race pointed out. "But more specifically, in the sense that Simmons grabbed his crutches when Jonny tried to leave," Race said.

"I thought that even Simmons' supervisors might find that exceeded his authority," Jack added.

Hammond nodded with a grim smile. "You're probably right. I'll bring it to their attention."

"Good," Jack said, and Race nodded decisively.

"So, how is –"

The door to the office slammed open suddenly revealing Daniel with Nyan close behind him. "I think Nyan's found something!" The Bedrosian archeologist stood behind Daniel looking uneasy and excited at the same time.

"What?" Race asked.

"Nyan?" Daniel said, turning to allow the other man to speak.

Jack could tell that Nyan would just as soon have allowed Daniel to take the spotlight, but he stepped forward anyway. "Well, I was going through the written materials SG-8 brought back from M(string), and I found some things that refer to Thoth."

"Really?" Hammond said.

Nyan nodded earnestly. "Knowing what was going on, I put a priority on that and sorted out everything that seemed relevant. And I seem to have found a listing of Stargate addresses that are to planets specifically identified as his. Four of them are in the database but not identified as Goa'uld worlds. They appear to have been added by Colonel O'Neill."

"And we haven't been to any of them yet!" Daniel said enthusiastically. "Sir, I think we should go."

"Do you mean SG-1?" Hammond asked.

"Well, Race is here for Jonny," Daniel said. "That's why we weren't involved in the search. We had to be around for Jonny. Now we can go out."

"What will going to a planet that belongs to Thoth tell you?" Race asked. "Do you think you'll find Benton or Hadji?"

"Clues, maybe," Daniel said, shaking his head. "And we might find one of them, or both. There's no knowing. This intelligence is very old."

"But it is unequivocal," Nyan said. "This planet –" He placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "This was supposed to be his seat. He had a great palace there and many people."

They were all silent, staring at the sheet of paper with the gate address. "That strikes me as a bad idea," Race said finally. "Going to his home base?"

Daniel shook his head. "Maybe not first, but the fact is, we have to take chances to find out where they are."

"I agree," Jack said. "We have to go, sir," he added to Hammond.

"I agree as well," Hammond said. "But not to the world Nyan has identified as Thoth's home base. Is there any detail on the other planets?"

"Yes sir," Nyan said, coming forward again and placing several more sheets of paper on the general's desk. They all leaned in. "These two are mining colonies, or were several centuries ago."

"Which means," Daniel said enthusiastically, "that they could easily be tapped out and abandoned, with the people left behind. We could potentially get a lot of information there."

"True," Hammond said, sounding amused. "And the third?"

"A pastoral planet," Nyan said. "From what these say, it seems that the crops grown there feed the miners and some of the more specialized items go to the palace."

"Now that sounds promising to me," Jack said. "Thoth probably doesn't visit any too often, but if they've still got contact, they might know where he is."

"True," Hammond said thoughtfully. "Is that where to you want to go first, colonel?"

"Actually, I want to consult Teal'c and see what he thinks."

"Good plan," Hammond said. "Dr. Jackson, let Major Carter know that we'll be having a briefing in an hour."

"Right," Daniel said, turning away, but then he froze and turned back. "I sent Jonny to work with Sam when Nyan came in."

"Should I tell him?"  
"You won't be leaving till tomorrow," Hammond said. "At the earliest."

"I'll come with you," Race said. "He may need a bit of reassurance. He really doesn't like people going out into danger without him."

"I know that feeling," Jack said, glancing at Daniel, who affected not to hear him.

"Let's go, then," he said, leading the way out of the office. Jack hadn't realized just how much Daniel had chafed at his forced inaction, but it was clear he wanted to be out doing as much as possible.

Jack watched them leave then turned to Nyan. "Thanks for finding all this."

"Yes, it's an enormous help," General Hammond said. "Thank you."

"No thanks are necessary, general," Nyan said. "I wish merely to be of service. I wish I could do more."

"You do plenty," Hammond said, and Jack added his endorsement to the general's words before heading off to find Teal'c.


End file.
